Redtail Boarding
by LaurenIsAmoron
Summary: Summery: Phil Lester wants a fresh new start at his new home, "Redtail Boarding" house which his mum has sent him too. But all he gets is a roommate who despises him, crappy food, and housemates with anger problems. Or something bigger than anger problems? Pairing: Phan. Other you-tubers involved. Who's the mysterious voice in the basement, and why was Phil sent there anyway?
1. Chapter 1

The first thing I saw as I dragged my suitcase through the large wooden door of the boarding house, was a huge silver chandelier hanging from the ceiling with crystal leaves reflecting the warm light bouncing off of the lamp standing proudly on the reception desk in the lobby.

The reception area was warm and full of architecture. Pretty ornaments littered the shelves on the walls and centuries old crystal animals lining a particular shelf which looked older than the antiques which were sitting on it.

I stood in the middle of the reception with my arms full and my headphones dangling down my chest. I didn't walk over to the reception desk where a young women was sat, tapping on her iPhone. I just stayed in one place, taking in my surroundings.

"Hello!" the receptionist grinned at me with pearly white teeth and shining blue eyes. She was quite pretty. Petite with blonde hair and plump red lips. "How can I help you?" she trilled politely, the grin never leaving her face.

I shuffled uncomfortably and dropped my heavy suitcases at my feet. They hit the posh carpeted flooring with a quiet thud. "Uh, Hi? I got here a few minuets ago. I'm from Manchester and I start here on Monday." I smiled back at her politely.

I cleared my throat using this opportunity to look around the posh, pretty reception area. Creme walls and red carpet with pictures of the school; Redtail Academy. I remember laughing at the name with my friends back in Rossendale. I eyed a specific portrait of the head master: a burly looking fellow with strange eyebrows and sincere expression.

"Name?" my eyes flickered back to the over-enthusiastic receptionist. She smiled at my curiosity. "That's Mr. Clayton, the head!" she said excitedly. Then she laughed at my expression. "Don't worry love, he's lovely." I nodded forcing a smile.

"Oh." I mumbled. I would have said more, but I wasn't really gunning for a conversation.

"Name?" The receptionist repeated, then chuckled. "In your own world, love?" her lips curved into a smile. "It must be a lot to take in, plus it's pretty late!" she glanced at the huge clock nailed into the wall.

Half past eleven in the evening. I stifled a sigh. Nearly midnight on a Friday night and I'm stuck in a stupid boarding house. Plus, with my social skills I doubt I'll make any friends. I prefer keeping to myself with my music and a book.

"I'll get your paperwork done quickly and then you can have your room key." the receptionist gestured for me to say my name.

"Uh, Phil Lester." I replied. She nodded. "One moment." the receptionist started typing on her computer and I went back to marvelling the old fashioned interior of the house. There was a stone archway leading out of the reception area which presumably led to dorm rooms or living area.

I really need a map to find my way around the actual school which is directly a five second walk away from here.

Mental note: Ask Miss. Enthusistic for a map.

"Ah!" The receptionist printed out a bunch of paperwork and handed me a pen. "Just sign the authorisation papers?" I nodded, took the pen and signed my signature repeatedly through about eight sheets. By the time I finished, my hand was aching.

When I slid the last sheet of paper across the desk, the receptionist who's name I learned was Penny after spotting the name tag clipped to her white blouse, sighed with relief. "That's it then Phil!" she handed me another bunch of papers and a keyring with my room key and a memory stick attached. "You're in room number eight." she explained. "The papers in your hands are a map of the grounds and your class schedule." I flipped through the mass of paperwork for the map, nodding.

"Also, here are your bursary application forms if you want to apply for additional support with meals and school equipment!"

I carried on nodding, my neck starting to ache due to constant nodding. "Uh.." I studied the brightly coloured map with a frown. "Sorry, what's my room number again?" I ran my hand through my short black hair nervously. Penny shook her head laughing. "Don't be nervous love, we're all lovely here!" she smiled and scribbled down my room number on a post-it note and handed it to me. I took it gratefully. "You won't believe how many students come here are like little shy sheep!" she grinned at me. "And now I see them occasionally sneaking out past curfew." I twiddled my room key between my fingers and nodded awkwardly.

"There are only twelve students currently boarding here." she smiled. "The rest of Redtail Acadamy students prefer to live at home." I nodded at that again, then silently cursed myself for nodding.

She looked past me and sighed. "Speaking of which, Luke and Emma! I can see you, get out from behind that wall!" I turned around to see two teenagers my age, frozen at the door. The boy had short ginger hair and looked irritated, his female friend with bright red hair had a similar expession. I didn't really know what to do, so I stood there awkwardly holding a bunch of papers. I decided on smiling at them politely. Behind me, Penny chuckled. "You're in your PJ's!" the students I presume were Luke and Emma, unfroze. The girl staring at me, while the boy babbled an excuse. "We're just going to get something to eat!"

Penny laughed again. Her laugh was starting to get agitating. "Oh! you're going to get food at…" she glanced at the clock. "Nearly midnight?" the receptionist rolled her eyes at me and then she shook her head at the teens.

"Have you got passes to be out this late?" Penny asked sternly. "Plus, why are you in your pyjama's in the first place?"

The red headed girl shrugged. "Couldn't be bothered to get dressed?" she answered that like a question rather than a statement. Penny's smile faltered. "Emma, attitude." she said sternly. The girl; Emma, frowned. "We're just really hungry, Penny!" she insisted. The boy nodded. "Yeah come on Penny! Just let us out this once?"

I felt like I should take my room key and make my way to wherever the dorms are. I glanced at the map Penny had given me.

"Tell you what!" Penny eyed me frowning at the map. So I must look really confused. "Guys, what if you help Phil here," she gestured to me and the two teens glanced at me. "He's new and could really do with a tour which leads to his room?" she smiled at them hopefully. When none of them spoke she sighed. "This is the second time I've caught you two sneaking out at curfew. If none of you are prepared to help Phil, I will speak to the head-"

"Fine!" the girl, Emma, stamped on the floor and folded her arms, her lips curling into a scowl. "Come on then!" she hissed at me.

"Emma Blackery!" Penny shrieked, her lip-sticky smile turning sour. "Don't speak to the new boy like that!" at that point I felt like I should say that I'm fine, and I will find my room on my own. But instead, I stood there like a lemon. Surely Emma and Luke thought I was a right idiot by now.

"What?!" Emma shot back at the receptionist. "We're going to help him! Jeez!" then she stomped forwards and grabbed me pretty roughly by the shoulders and started dragging me towards a wide wooden door. I staggered before regaining my footing and nearly dropped all my paperwork.

"I'll get his luggage?" The guy, Luke, bent down and picked up my suitcases and hauled them over to the door. "Jesus what have you packed in here, bricks?"

I snorted at that. "No, uh..just clothes?" Oh god, why can't I just find my room by MYSELF?!

Emma and Luke led me, well, dragged me out of the reception area and once Penny was out of sight and Luke had slammed the door behind him, Emma finally let go of my shoulders. They walked, pretty fast down a posh carpeted corridor and I had to run to catch up with them.

"I can take it from here!" I huffed out of breath, practically power-walking after him.

"Nope, we're taking you to your room, newbie." Emma said coldly, not even turning around to look at me. Luke was still carrying my luggage. "So…" he said conversationally. I shuffled uncomfortably. "Phil, is it Phil?" he asked. I nodded but didn't speak. He nodded and smiled kindly. "I'm Luke.." he chuckled. "Though you already guessed that right?" he snorted. "Penny can be pretty bitchy at times." he leaned in to whisper. "Sorry about Emma, she's just pissed about not being aloud to see her mum tomorrow."

I nodded. "Oh…okay?" Emma, still giving me the silent treatment, and Luke, giving me a low-down on the students, led me down another posh corridor and up a spiral staircase. I couldn't help staring in awe as we made our way through the house. There were mini chandeliers hung in every corridor making this strange new house feel more like home.

"S' just up here mate." while Emma stood at the top of what seemed like the hundredth staircase I had climbed, tapping her foot impatiently. Luke dragged my suitcases up each step one by one while I walked up behind.

"Here we are! Room…?" Emma scanned the post-it note Penny had given me with my room number. "Number eight!" she tapped on the mahogany door gently and smirked at me once I had reached her. Luke joined us red-faced still with my luggage.

The corridor my room was on was similar to the others with light purple carpet and was lined with six rooms. My door, well, my roommates door, had a picture of a Pokemon I couldn't name, and black block letters were blue-tac'd to the wood. "KEEP THE FUCK OUT"

"Inviting…" I muttered. Emma traced the door with her chipped nail. "Oh, you're rooming with Mr. 'I'm on fire' Phil," she snickered. "Well, good luck with that!" she said cheerily, then turned and went back down the corridor. "Luke?" she called impatiently.

He smiled at me apologetically and patted me on the back. "Nice meeting you Phil!" he grinned and then turned to follow Emma. "See you at breakfast!" he shouted over his shoulder, then broke into a run to catch up with his friend.

When Emma and Luke had gone and I was finally on my own, I turned, heart hammering, and faced my roommates door. My key was clenched in my sweaty fist and I had to inhale and exhale a few times to calm myself down.

Then after standing there like an idiot for at least five minuets, I cleared my throat and knocked quietly on the wood four times.

No answer. I knocked again, this time harder. Still silence. I wondered if he was out, after all it was a Friday night. Saying that, wasn't it midnight? Plus, there's a curfew, so he's either asleep or ignoring me.

"Um…hello?" I studied the golden plated number on the door. Number Eight. I have the right room, so why is nobody answering?

"Oh for god's sake." I mumbled, irritably. I was tired, the car-journey was long and I just want to curl up and sleep.

"Hello?!" I banged on the door this time. "Can you let me in?"

Then out of frustration at my roommates obvious arrogance, I twisted the door knob and to my surprise- not- the door creaked open. So he WAS in the room.

"Um..?" I walked in, confused when I wandered straight into darkness. I fumbled on the wall blindly for a light switch and after finding one, clicked it on.

The room flooded with bright light and I squinted painfully. After recovering from momentarily becoming blind, I took a step forwards and properly took in my roommates, and now my room.

The room was pretty big, and you could tell that it was half occupied. My roommates side was littered with books and clothes, his walls covered in posters of some of my favourite bands. His bed was unmade, and a laptop surrounded by multiple packets of dorito's lay on his blue duvet.

My side however, was completely bare and stripped of personality. There was just a single bed which was made and a school uniform folded neatly on-top of it. So my roommate must of known I was coming. Next to the bed was a simple wooden desk and lamp.

My gaze went to the window, which was wide and had bright yellow curtains hanging from-

"What. The. Fuck?!" the sudden voice made me nearly jump out of my skin. I scanned the room again and my heart started hammering.

Leaning next to his bed, was my roommate. He was tall with short brunette hair cut into a similar style as mine. He wore a simple black T-shirt with black skinny's.

He was scowling. Like I had paraded in here naked or something.

I forced a polite smile. "Uh, Hi. I'm your new roommate." I ran a hand through my hair. Something I do when I'm nervous.

The boy, to my surprise, started laughing. His scowl broke into a dimpled grin and he doubled over laughing like a hyena. I didn't know what to do, so I just stared at him, waiting for him to stop.

"No." The boy stopped laughing abruptly and shot me a glare.

I tried a second approach. "I'm Phil Lester?" I searched his expression for kindness but all I saw was annoyance. "Oh sorry, my apologies." he said while straightening up and walked over so were were three inches away from each other.

"Hello, Phil Lester." he said cooly, his voice dripped sarcasm and his breath tickled my face. I opened my mouth to reply, but suddenly he pushed me roughly, so I stumbled out of the room, and landed on my ass back on the corridor. "Bye Phil Lester!" he said in a sing-song voice, before slamming the door behind him.

Well that went well.

~  
Reblog/like if you enjoyed ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

Dos-

"Arrogant bastard." I muttered softly, fighting stupid babyish tears weaving down my cheeks like lost fucking waterfalls. I had no idea what to do. Getting completely and utterly rejected by my roommate at godknows what time at night was not on my agenda. I don't know how long I stood there, just staring at the chipped mahogany wood of my roommates door. My legs were aching from constant walking and I kept having to fight back the urge to close my eyes. No, I can't sleep on the corridor! Don't get me wrong the carpet looked pretty comfy and tempting-

But what the hell were my fellow housemates going to think when they stepped out of their rooms, to find me, the newbie, curled up asleep on the corridor surrounded by his luggage? I shook my head and swiped at my stupid damp eyes. You're sixteen Phil, not a little kid. I forced my aching body to straighten up and after plucking up enough courage and doing a few breathing exercises, I knocked feebly on the door once again. "Look." I said quietly, but loud enough for- what had Emma called him again? "Mr. on Fire"….whatever that meant.

I rested my forehead on the door, rustling my roommates little 'Keep out" sign and let out a sigh and shut my eyes, beginning to attempt the sympathy take. "I know you probably hate me, but please, just let me in? I'm so tired!" I added desperation into my voice and banged my head a few times for effect. "Whoever you are, just let me in?" I paused for a breath, but he didn't reply and I heard no movement from inside.

Maybe he's asleep? Hope trickled into my sleep deprived brain and without thinking I turned the door handle and let the door swing open, before stepping in warily, once again being greeted by darkness. "Jesus.." I mumbled, deciding that the safe-bet was to leave the light off and sneak in, crawl into my bed and just sleep.

I made my way through the room blindly, using my arms for balance and to lead me and stop me walking into obsticles like wardrobes and bed frames. I took a step forwards, biting my lip. It is a bit ridiculous playing the fucking Pink Panther at 1am, tip toeing to my bed and making sure I don't wake up my stupid, life-ruining roommate. Okay not life ruining, but I usually hate just about everyone at 1am anyway.

Being in this situation has just worsened my already fowl mood.

But I need sleep. The only other way of solving this ridiculous disagreement or whatever, is to trail back down to reception and speaky to Plucky Penny. I have no idea why my roommate hated me so much he has no reason to, he doesn't even know me! Plus as much as I LOVE Penny's amazing piercing screach, I think I'd prefer staying far, far away from her.

Suddenly my roommate mumbled something in his slumber and his mattress sqeaked when he rolled over letting out a sudden random giggle. Obviously this distracted me, because maybe he's awake and teasing me? With a grunt I balled my hands into fists and took long strides across the floor, biting the inside of my cheek when I stamped on a crisp packet or something which rustled loudly.

Then, to my surprise, the boy I was sharing a room with and was 99.9% sure he wanted to kill me, let out a soft moan and giggled again. I stiffened before slowly turning and squinting, seeing a roommate-sized lump on his bed. He yawned again and rolled over with a sigh. Okay, he's asleep.

I think.

My heart beat deteriorated slightly and I caught my breath.

Then I glimpsed the outline of an empty bed infron't of me and I let my hands trail over the crisp sheets on my bed. Letting out a sigh of relief I slipped out of my trainers and took my coat off discarding it on the floor. Still holding my breath, I slid into bed and under the covers, nestling my head into the warm pillows. I couldn't help sighing in happy relief as I pulled the covers over my head and let my eyes shut. Fuck sleeping in my clothes, I can sort that out tomorrow.

I winced when my roommates soft snores kept me awake for a bit, so I just lay there, my pounding heart slowing, while my over-active brain began to slowly shut down and enter sleep mode.

I rolled over in bed, suddenly getting a stab of home-sickness. I've only been away for what- about six hours? and already I'm sniffing hard, trying my hardest not to cry whilst lying on my back and staring at the ceiling. Bizzarely, listening to my roommates breathing actually calmed me. Though he giggles alot. I wonder why. Maybe he's been awake this whole time laughing at my utter stupidity.

Eurgh no, don't think about him. Holding in a groan I closed my eyes and exhaled softly, letting the images of home and my friends, as well as the sound of my own uneven breathing rock me to restless yet somehow calming sleep.

I was torn out of a dream about trying to find the Holy Grail, to someone shaking me awake.

"Newbie?" a voice which my foggy mind automatically recognised as Emma, the red-headed girl with the wicked attitude and intense green eyes. I mumbled something unintelligable and hoped she would go away, but she didn't and much to my annoyance, continued to pound me softly in the stomach. "What?!" I mumbled disoriented, keeping my head sandwhiched between two pillows.

Emma didn't say anything but she did get inpatient and started to get more and more aggressive with her punches. At first she was just softly knocking on my chest, but now she was full-on hitting me and the duvet covering me did nothing to shield her blows.

"Go awaaayy!" I mumbled into my pillow, biting my lip to stifle a cry when she hit me in the chest. The pain was starting to get to me, and all I wanted to do was sleep. She's not going to leave me alone, she's going to end up full-on beating me up. That's right, I'm being beaten up….by a girl.

"Emma, that's enough. Jesus, you're beating bim black and blue!" a new voice whispered. A guy this time. Emma stopped hitting me thank god. I silently thanked this mysterious guy hovering over me with Emma. "He wouldn't wake up!" she humfed.

I could hear their breaths every few seconds. Multiple breaths. So I'm guessing this is my welcoming committe. I wonder if my roommate is among them. Maybe they're going to give pour water or pig blood all over me like in the movies. "Hey new boy, stop pretending to be asleep!" another guy hissed. I was hoping Luke might say something, but to my dismay, he didn't. Is he even there? Why is Emma waking me up in the middle of the night with two (or more) guys?!

"Oh for goodness sake, get up!" another voice- female this time, said loudly. Her voice in contrast to the others sounded more threatening and I opened my eyes reluctently and pried my face out of the pillows I had suffocated myself with. "What-?" I rolled onto my back and blinked blearily, sheilding my eyes when I was once again blinded- this time by dozens of individual torches all shining directly in my face.

"What the hell?!" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. Once I had adjusted to the intense retina-burning light bathing my face, I looked up to meet ten pairs of eyes, all staring down at me.

Biting the inside of my cheek was the only way to stop the frightened squeak building up in the back of my dry throat.

I counted them- ten kids. All my age, boys and girls. All dressed in Pyjama's with hoodies over the top. They were all glaring at me intimidatingly, holding flashlights.

After a few moments of blinking to see if I was hallucinating, I found my voice. "What's going on?" I frowned at Emma, who was pratically sitting on my duvet, the others crowded round my bed.

I sat up properly in bed and winced when all their eyes followed every move I made. I looked past the group of teens to my roommates bed to find the covers pulled back and his mattress empty. Okay that's weird. Where was he? I scanned the kids faces infron't of me for his narrowed brown eyes and scowl, but none of their faces matched.

"Philip Lester." one of the boys spoke and I moved my gaze from my roommates bed, to his face, which was set in a permanent frown. Just like the others. What was wrong with these kids?!

"Yes?" I yawned and folded my arms across my chest with a frown. "What's this about?" I sighed at him and rolled my eyes. "Haven't you got anything better to do?" I muttered, directing my gaze at Emma who- believe it or not, had managed to look even angrier.

The guy who had said my name cleared his throat. I looked at him again. He had blonde curly hair and blue eyes, intensified by the overwhelming light. He looked a bit like the freaking angel gabriel.

"What even?!" I muttered irritably, letting my legs dangle out of bed. I was still wearing creased jeans and my MUSE t-shirt from yesterday. Once again ten pairs of eyes followed my every move and I had to bite back the urge to yell something at them.

"Phil." the boy with a similar resemblence to Angel Gabriel, repeated my name tonelessly.

"What?!" my eyes wandered curiously over the mass of faces staring at me. I sighed fiddling with my fringe and glanced at the window which was pitch black.

"Confirm your name is Phil Lester" the boy said, his blue eyes narrowing a bit like my lovely roommates. I have a feeling everyone, except maybe Luke, are all like my roommate. Brilliant.

"Uh..yes?" I rolled my eyes again. "My name is Phil, Michael Lester. Now can you leave me alone?"

Angel-Gabriel look-alike snickered. "Nah." he grinned at me. Well at least he's acting like a teenager now and not a fucking cult leader.

"You need to go through initiation first!" Emma cut in, her lips curling into a twisted smile. The pretty girl next to her with brown curly hair and a spongebob pyjama top smiled too. Not as menacing as Emma. "We all have to do it." she smiled at me. Though there was a strange gleam in her wide brown eyes.

"Initiation?" I repeated. I couldn't help my voice shaking slightly.

"Yeah, initiation!" a guy standing next to the pretty curly haired girl had an identical smirk to Emma, on his face. He was small with short black hair and a fringe covering his right eye. "Come on mate, get out of bed or we'll drag you out." something in his tone of voice told me he was serious.

"And if I don't?" I mumbled stubbornly, meaning to sound challenging.

"If you don't, you'll fail, and believe me you don't want to end up like Anthony." Angel-Gabriel guy said softly, his eyes flashing wickedly. I frowned. "Wait, who's-"

Before I could get a word in, the curly haired girl and black fringed guy lunged forwards and grabbed my arms roughly, dragging me unsteadily to my feet. "Get off!" I growled irritably, yanking my arms free. "Come on newbie!" Emma grabbed my hand and lead me out of my room, the others following silently, shining their flashlights so I could see where I was going. Emma led me down the staircase I remember dragging my suitcase up with Luke just hours earlier. Where is Luke?

My luggage had been moved off the corridor after I had left it lying outside my room last night. Who moved it though?

"Where are we going?" I asked them as the majority of my housemates excluding my roommate and Luke, pratically dragged me, stumbling and nervously tripping down a familiar corridor. Wait, this is the corridor leading to reception.

I recognised the plush carpet and pretty mini chandalier. Is that where they're taking me, reception? Emma and the Ebony fringe guy yanked me through the huge wooden door leading into Penny's main lobby.

"Seriously, where are we going?!" I demanded warily, as they took me through reception, which was about fifty times scarier when it was dark and only illuminated by my crazy housemates' torches.

There was no sign of the plucky receptionist to my dismay. Her desk was empty and when I saw the "CLOSED" sign on the wooden top I lost all hope of not going through this stupid "initiation."

My stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots as Emma and fringe-guy walked over to the huge wooden door with a golden plate saying, "REDTAIL BOARDING HOUSE." and Emma produced a set of keys from her red hoodie and stuck one of them into the door before sending a smirk at me and twisting it. The door clicked open and I groaned. "Outside?! Are you serious!?" I studied all of their faces and sighed exasperated. "I don't even have any shoes." I mumbled, starting to feel less angry, and more and more tired and upset.

Another housemate, a girl with pretty long brown hair and blue eyes held something up and my stomach dropped upon seeing them. My shoes. She was holding my black trainers between her bright blue fingernails, a smirk on her face. "Problem solved!" she said cheerfully. Then; "Put them on, can we get this over with quickly?" she rubbed her bare arms shivering. Her and the curly haired girl were the only ones wearing pyjama tops while the others wore hoodies. "It's freezing!" she moaned.

The girl handed me my trainers and I took them, my hands shaking. What are they going to do to me? "Where are we going?" I asked as I laced my trainers up, making sure to go as slow as possible. Hopefully Penny will hear something and come and see what's going on.

"You'll see." Emma replied. Then grabbed my arm again, leading me out of the boarding house and into the cold March night. It was pitch black and shadows lingered everywhere. I remember walking through the car-park I'm plodding through right now, hours earlier, with my suitcases in my hands and a kind of positivity in my mind, hoping to make a good impression and a fresh start.

Obviously none of that happened, because now I'm stumbling over concrete occasionally getting yanked roughly by Emma, and it looks like they're leading me into the woods which separates the boarding house from the school.

"Over." The curly haired girl ordered softly. I stepped over a thin strip of barb wire while the others shined their torches.

"This is stupid, what is this even accomplishing?!" I hissed, ducking underneath a scary looking branch.

We walked, well, I stumbled and occasionally tried to back away when owl hoots or rustling interrupted the tense silence.

The forest was admittedly terrifying. When I peered out of the window of my mum's car on the way here I saw bright green and pretty colours. The tree's were starting to blossom and everything looked pretty damn awesome.

But now it looked like something off of 'The Blair Witch Project.'

I carried on walking, treading through dead leaves covering the forest floor. Emma led the way, pratically skipping along happily, it was the first time I had seen her with a genuine smile on her face.

Although the way she smiled at me when she occasionally turned and stopped skipping, made me kinda really want to push her over.

"We're here!" she trilled happily. I stopped walking abruptly and scanned my surroundings, which was literally just darkness. We were standing in a clearing, only illuminated by the moon as well as a small fire. Emma switched her torch off, and then so did the others.

Who lit the fire? my gaze landed on the carefully organized firewood in a pile while bright intense flames licked across them.

The teens all gathered around the fire with serious expressions and I swear I caught the pretty curly haired girl hide a smile.

"Right, Phil." Angel-Gabriel guy shivered and when he breathed, his breath lingered in the air.

I didn't answer, but I did eye him with an irritated glare.

"Please confirm that you would like to become a Redtail Boarding house student." he stared at me, his blue eyes blazed curiously.

I sighed. "Yes?" I rolled my eyes.

"Okay then." Angel-Gabriel guy exchanged a smile with the others and then smirked at me. "Stay here." he said simply. "For two hours." he challenged.

I snorted. That's it?! that's their initiation test?!

"Okay?" I said flatly, raising my eyebrows. "That's it?"

Angel-Gabriel guy nodded. "Yup." he grinned. "Oh, and find your way back…." he paused for dramatic effect. "In the dark…"

I rolled my eyes again and plonked myself down on a comfy looking rock. "Right." I eyed the fire. "What's the fire for?"

Emma shrugged. "Dunno, we didn't light it. Later newbie!" then she took off through the clearing, followed by the others. Angel-Gabriel guy took a bandanna out of his pocket and before I could stop him, tied it round my eyes.

"Didn't think it would be that easy right Phil?" his breath tickled my ear and despite my hammering heart, I let out a choked laugh.

"Wow. I'm- so scared…" I mumbled, but he didn't answer.

"Hey?" I looked around blindly. "Oh right, okay!" I yelled. "Fine..just l- leave me alone in the f- forest!" my shouts turned feeble and I felt tears spring in my eyes again. "Stop crying, Phil." I mumbled to myself. Then I stood up, tearing the stupid blindfold off. My sight returned and I was greeted to the eerie pitch black forest. "Oh god…" I muttered, scanning the clearing for a way out. Where had Emma gone again?

I spotted a path and decided to follow it, stumbling and tripping over fallen branches. The path seemed to twist in different directions and I swear I had just gone deeper and deeper into the forest.

The path led me to a small lake and I leapt across it blindly, hoping I didn't break my neck.

I need a light. My only source of light at the moment is the moon and I can't rely on it because it's constantly moving behind clouds.

"I'm not staying here, I hate it…who lit the fire? where even am I?!" I mumbled my thoughts as I made my way, pushing my exhausted legs to carry on. Come on, I must be getting closer back to the house. The lack of sound and deteriorating light as I made my way down yet another path, proved my hopes wrong.

A branch whacked me in the face and nettles stung my ankles because I wasn't wearing any socks. I started to cry then. Hopeless, pathetic, stupid tears.

I'm going round in circles. Throwing my arms down, I gave up and slumped down on the forest floor, resting my head between my knees. This is hopeless, I'm stuck here.

Suddenly rustling- more importently, shoes kicking leaves at a fast pace rustling, jolted me out of disorientation. I lifted my head up and scanned the endless tree's infron't of me with tired eyes. "Hello?!" I hissed hoarsly.

The rustling got louder and I couldn't help it. I got to my feet and wrapped my arms around my chest shivering. Goosebumps covered my arms and I was sure there was something crawling up my shirt. Then a voice I recognised and the hairs on my back stood up. My roommate?!

Why is my roommate in the woods? The rustling stopped and I peeked behind a bush, holding my breath. First I saw his converse in the leaves and my eyes travelled up his body. He was standing a few feet away from me with stripy pyjama bottoms and a grey t-shirt on. He had a flashlight gripped in his hand and was staring at something I couldn't see with a similar expression to Emma.

"Come on, I know you're there!" he hissed angrily. I could almost see the venom spitting from his lips. I tensed and my heart started doing acrobatics. Is he talking to me?! I risked another peek to see he was shining his light at something- or someone, evidently only he could see.

"It's not fair!" he cried, irritably brushing his brunette fringe from his eyes. "Stop playing games!"

Who's he talking too? I considered stepping out from my hiding place to question why he was talking to thin air, but maybe that's not such a good idea. My roommate balled his hands into fists and a rush of wind shook the trees.

I shivered again, feeling goosebumps prickle my arms again. I wanted to walk away, but curiosity glued me in place. What exactly was he doing?!

"I know you're there." My roommate gritted his teeth and his gaze darted around his surroundings, searching for something, or someone.

"Okay, fine." the boy growled. Then cleared his throat. "Well, thanks I guess? but you can leave me alone now, I don't need you."

Is he insane?! While I pondered my roommates sanity, someone suddenly grabbed me from behind and before I screamed, slammed their hands over my mouth. "Get off!" I squeaked, but my cry was muffled by his hand.

"Phil?!" I recognised his voice straight away. He removed his hand and I turned to see a frantic looking Luke, staring at me questioningly. "What are you doing in the woods?!" he hissed.

I could have hugged him. I wanted to tell him everything. About Emma and the others "Initiation" test, and my roommate possibly having some kind of schitzophrenia, but all I managed to choke out was, "Why are YOU in the woods?!"

Luke sighed. "I thought Emma and the others might have tried to initiate you." he cocked an eyebrow. "I'm guessing they did?"

I just stared at him. "You're all crazy." I grumbled.

He chuckled. "Sorry mate, it's just Charlie's idea of fun."

"Charlie?"

"Curly hair, look's a bit like a girl?" Luke smirked. Oh, so Angel-Gabriel was this "Charlie" guy.

I looked away from Luke, to see my roommate had gone from where he had been standing, talking to thin air. I held my breath. Maybe I shouldn't tell Luke about that.

"So." Luke pointed to the right path leading back to the house. "What did they do this time?"

I followed him back down the path, ducking under trees and stumbling once again. "I dunno, they just wanted me to stay in here for two hours and make my way back blindfolded." I replied casually, like he was asking me the time. He snorted. "Wow, they're "initiation" tests are getting pretty lame." he crawled under a bush and I copied.

I could see the house in the distance and I let out a relieved sigh. We climbed back over the barb wire and then made our way back up to the house. "What about you?" I couldn't help asking.

Luke opened the wooden door of the house and crept in. I followed warily, looking round for Charlie and his cronies, or my equally crazy roommate.

"When I first came, they made me do a blood pact!" he whispered with a laugh, and I forced a quiet laugh. Blood pact?!

Once again the reception was pitch black and silent. Penny's desk was still deserted and I stared at the clock on the wall.

5:45am. Brilliant. Luke cursed to himself. "They better not wake us up at nine…" he grumbled, running his hand through his hair.

The rest was a blur of thanking and saying goodbye to Luke, wandering back into my room and seeing my roommate once again curled up in bed. Awake or asleep, I didn't care. All I cared about was sleeping for twenty four years.

My skin itched and my hair was covered in bits of dirt and dead leaves, and my shirt had ants crawling all over it. I stripped off and climbed into bed and my eyes were shut before my head even hit the pillow.

~~~~~~  
I really hate mirrors.

Because when you look like a walking corpse which has been dragged through a car-wash, the mirror happily reflects your face back at you and you really want to dunk your face in the sink.

With a sigh I turned the warm tap on and ran my hands under the water, bathing my face and relishing in the warmth. I grabbed the soap and scrubbed my body hoping to rid myself of the feeling of crawling all over my chest.

I woke up this morning feeling like death. And even after splashing cold water all over my face, I still feel like absolute death.

The bathroom of the boarding house was pretty big with light blue walls and pretty purple tiles with dolphins. I might have admired the pretty old fashioned bath which looked more like a swimming pool and the huge antique mirror right infron't of me but I could barely keep my eyes open. I yawned and turned the tap off before grabbing a towel and wiping my face.

Then someone knocked on the door making me nearly drop my toothbrush which I had managed to find at the very bottom of my suitcase. "Hello?" a sleepy voice murmured. "You do realize I always use the bathroom first?"

I recognised her voice as the pretty blue eyed girl who had dangled my trainers infron't of my face last night. I shrugged in the mirror and brushed my teeth before gargling and spitting in the sink. The gargling wasn't neccesary but I wanted the girl to know that I am not coming out of this bathroom untill I've finished.

"Oh?" I replied to her. "Well, sorry, I'm kinda busy right now." I spat in the sink again.

I could hear the soft thuds of her slippers as they tapped inpatiently. "Excuse me?!" she hissed. "You do realize I had to do the washing up for Finn for SIX WEEKS to get the bathroom first right?!" she shrieked.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm new, I didn't know." then after a pause. "Sorry."

She sighed. "Get out now new boy and I won't kick your ass." she said coldly. It sounded like she had her head pressed to the door.

"Kick my ass?!" I retorted, holding back a laugh. "Wait, because I'm using the bathroom before you?!"

"GET OUT!" She suddenly screached. I eyed the door warily, wondering if she was going to break it down and "Kick my ass".

"Zoey Sugg!" a familiar voice chirped. "Leave Phil alone young lady!"

The girl- Zoey- pounded her fists into the door making me jump. "He's in the bathroom!" she yelled. "It's not fair, I did Finn Harries' washing up for SIX WEEKS!" she enthaisized, "Six weeks" by hitting the door again angrily.

"I'm sure just this once you can let Phil use it before you?" Penny said calmly. She was outside the door now.

"No I can't!" Zoey sounded like she was crying now. She pounded her fists on the door again. "GET. OUT. NEW. BOY!" every time her fists made contact with the wood I grew more and more wary. "Uh…okay!" I pratically squeaked.

"NOW!" Zoey shrieked. "Or I swear to god I'll-"

Then she let out a squeak and all I heard was Penny's gentle and reassuring murmers.

I grabbed my stuff and walked over to the door. "I'm coming out?" I said slowly. "Um..hold on."

I opened the door and peeked out to find Penny kneeling by a girl lying outside the bathroom.

She was curled up in a foetal position with her eyes closed peacefully. Her messy brown bed hair was spread around her like a halo.

"What?" I stared at the girl. Zoey- the pretty girl with long brown hair was knocked out cold.

"Sorry about this, we have to sedate her when she gets too worked up." Penny smiled calmly.

"Okay?" was all I could say. Penny smiled at me reassuringly. "She'll be okay in a bit!" she trilled. "Now Phil, you should go downstairs for breakfast honey." she told me sternly. I nodded quickly and stepped over Zoey's unconcious form and made my way down the corridor quickly, my mind oozing with questions.


	3. Chapter 3

Tres~

Breakfast was eventfull.

I had finally found the kitchen, after at least ten minuets of wandering around aimlessly trying to find it. The boarding house's kitchen was nothing special, a big room with a long breakfast table surrounded by colourfull chairs and a pile of bowls and plates. I was the first one there so I took my seat and lay my head on the table, automatically getting a whiff of cleaning products and pine wood.

The kitchen was bright and homey, like every other room in the house. Though my head was hurting and my brain a mess of unanswered questions, including Zoey's meltdown leading to her being sedated by Penny. Plus my roommate's crazy moment in the woods. Why did mum send me here? This school is obviously for kids with anger management.

"Head off the table!" an old women with grey hair pratically screeched. I lifted my head up quickly babbling a mumbled apology. She just sighed and muttered something under her breath about being respectfull.

I'm guessing she's our house-mother. The women scurried around the kitchen, placing cutelry on the table and fiddling with the old fashioned cooker.

The whole kitchen smelt like lemony cleaning products and burning toast. I felt another stab of home-sickness hitting me in the gut. Kinda like my own kitchen.

Why can't I be at home? mum works all day and most nights at a hospital and my dad's away on buisness trips so I hardly saw them. I just miss getting out of bed at what time I wanted and helping myself to breakfast while surfing the internet and Facebook.

My parents only sent me here because I need a good education and to be looked after properly. Something which they can't do.

My mum is a nurse- that's all I know. When she is at home she doesn't normally talk about her job. And my dad? He works for some big-shot company and I rarely see him. Only on occasions like my birthday and Christmas.

I watched the House-mother mop the floors and tend to other cleaning duties. Watching her, and the overwhelming smell of bleach was keeping me awake.

The women looked about my grandma's age with a permanent scowl and wrinkly face. She was wearing a grey dress and knitted cardigan. Basically she looked like she was being Evacuated in the 1940's. I sat up straight in my chair, making sure my posture was perfect. I hope she doesn't make me eat like the royal family.

I'm hopeles at posture and ediqet. My grandparents are fairly posh so when they visit I always get told to "Sit up straight Philip!" and the one which really got on my nerves. "Don't slurp your soup Philip!" they would stare at me all the way through eating, and when I dared use my phone, they started going on about "Kids these days!" and my personal favourite: "Your generation are messed up young man. Thank god you have a fairly decent intelligence!" they would give me lectures on getting a good job and "Making the Lester's proud" I hated them with passion.

The house-mother hummed to a tune I didn't recognise while cleaning the cabinets and I was fairly happy to just sit there trying not to fall asleep while my mind pondered various questions like why the hell was I even here.

Then the old women who wasn't acting like the latter of her supposed position put the radio on, which when blasted in your ears after barely any sleep, it felt like my brain was leaking out of my ears. I bit back a groan and wished I had my earphones.

Redtail Boarding house was obsessed with eating healthy. I was served a white lumpy mixture which might have been porridge. It had a rubber texture and smelt like cat sick. I sat bent over my bowl, simuantaneously trying to keep my eyes open and trying to make it look like I was eating it.

Served with the porridge/cat-sick was a glass of cloudy water which was apparently lemon flavoured.

Oooh how exciting!

"Drink it." the creepy old lady said sternly after placing it infron't of me. I noticed she added a glass of the strange drink next to each individual plate around the table.

"What is it?" I picked the glass up gingerly inspecting the drink. It looked like cloudy lemonade but when I smelt it I got a whiff of rotten eggs and lemon. I screwed my face up and set it back down like a picky child. "Sorry, could I have a glass of water instead?"

She laughed an ugly croaky laugh which sounded more like a cough. "Silly child!" she cackled making me feel uncomfortable. "That is water!" she shook her head and turned back to the sink, resuming washing the dishes and humming.

That's definitely not water. I stared at it frowning. I should chuck it down the sink when I have the chance. I turned in my chair to see the women still merrily washing plates and cups.

When were the others coming down?! It's not like I want to interact with my house-mates after last night, especially three of them. Emma, the girl who no matter how much I tried, could not understand. Zoey, who had some major anger problems, and of course my name-less roommate. He was on my mind the most. It still baffled me what he was doing last night.

I remember how concentrated he looked as he scanned the empty space around him where in his mind evidently, he could see something or someone. His brown eyes narrowed and squinting like he was struggling to find someone.

His hands curled into fists, where a shallow breeze rustled the trees and made me shiver, my arms prickling with goosebumps. A breeze which hadn't been there before. The scary thing, the thought what keeps bugging me, is that there was no breeze before I saw my roommate. Or was I just being really paranoid? My mind is literally mush. Of course I'm pondering my mysterious roommate more than I should be.

My head hurt. Too many questions. I rubbed my eyes disoriented and yawned, leaning back in my chair stretching.

"I said drink it." I jumped when the old lady leaned over me with her beady eyes narrowed at me suspicously. I forced a smile at the strange women. "I'm not thirsty, but thanks." I pushed the glass away, but to my surprise she picked it up and placed it right infron't of me again. I shot her an irritated look. "I said I'm not thirsty." I mumbled, trying to avoid her intimidating gaze.

"Mr. Lester, I highly recommend that you drink it." she said, the tone of her voice rising to authority level. I was surprised she knew my name. But there was no way in this earths core that I was going to drink it. That stuff was not water. What even was it?!

She's not going to go untill I've drank it all.

I picked up the glass and held it awkwardly between my thumb and fore finger. "Okay.." I said bringing it to my lips. I was hoping she would leave me alone and go back to washing up, but she stayed hovering over me like a bad odour. I resisted the urge to hold my nose and squeezed my eyes shut drinking the whole thing in one. When the foul liquid hit the back of my throat I gagged and forced myself to swallow.

"That's it!" the house-mother said appreciatively. "Every last drop young man." I set the glass back on the table feeling sick to my stomach, the foul taste of rotten eggs lingering in my throat.

I felt like throwing up. Hopefully all over her. She nodded once at me and then picked up the empty glass and took it back over to the sink. With her back turned I shook my head waggling my tongue and licking my dry lips. The "drink" was more like a smoothie. Thick and clogging up my throat. "Can I have another drink?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level and polite. But instead I sounded like I was spitting at her. She turned back to me wiping her hands on her apron. "What of?" she questioned opening the fridge. Which to my surprise was stocked with bottles of Coke, Lemonade and bottled water. So much for healthy drinks. "Just a coke?"

She grabbed a can of Coke and then set it pretty aggresively infron't of me. "Thanks," I muttered, cracking open the seal and taking a long drink, relishing in the cool liquid running down my throat distinguishing any bad tastes still lingering. I winced when the fizz of the drink burned my mouth, but I was too busy drinking thirstily, not realising how good the feeling was.

"Morning Sandra!" an all too familiar voice sang. Charlie- the guy with the blonde curls from last night waltzed in to the kitchen still in his pyjama's. "Morning new kid!" he said cheerily, grabbing the seat opposite me untill his gaze settled on the glass filled to the brim with the "water" which the house-mother had pratically forced me to drink. I stared at him wondering if he was going to drink it. It hardly looked appetising.

Charlie's blue eyes, not so insanely blue when he wasn't bathed in torchlight, widened slightly, but then he shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Do we have to drink this every breakfast time?" he picked up his glass trying to fend off a disgusted expression. The house-mother or 'Sandra' which Charlie had happily called her, turned away from the fridge to face him with her arms folded. "Yes, Charlie. You know the score young man."

Charlie's expression was neautral. "Oh right, okay." he muttered, eyeing the sludge filled glass.

I avoided his gaze and kept my gaze on the wooden pine table.

"Hi…" a sleepy voice mumbled. This time I didn't recognise the voice. I turned in my chair to see a girl with Minnie Mouse pyjama's and shoulder length brown hair with little plaits tied into it with bright red ribbons. She wandered over to the table, yawning and rubbing her eyes before pulling out the chair next to Charlie and pratically falling into it groaning.

"Good morning Bethan!" Sandra said cheerfully, setting a spoon next to the girl's bowl of porridge- I think it was porridge? I looked down into my own bowl and frowned. I'm pretty sure porridge shouldn't move.

The girl- Bethan, picked up the spoon and poked her porridge. When the metal edge sliced through the gloop, it bounced back and she giggled quietly. Charlie eyed her breakfast and then his own. "Would it kill her to make edible food?" he muttered.

Bethan nodded. "Mmm." she mumbled tiredly, leaning her hand on her chin. She was staring at her drink of the cloudy water, a similar expression to Charlie on her face. "So…" she glanced to see if Sandra was near and then looked up to meet eyes with me.

"New boy, huh?" she asked conversationally. She was studying the porridge now, scooping it up with her spoon and then dropping it with a nasty slop.

I nodded, my black hair flopping into my eyes. But I didn't say anything. Purely because, like Charlie, her gaze was intimidating.

"What's your name?" she asked, her green eyes studying me like I was some kind of lab rat. I shrugged. "Phil." I frowned at her. Like she didn't know. Was she part of my welcoming committe last night? I didn't recognise her face or voice, so maybe not.

"Oh! You're Dan's new roommate!" she pointed at me with her spoon and I nodded. "Yeah…Dan. Is that his name?" I asked. The girl nodded and leaned over the table to murmur, "You mean the guy who burned his house down?" she smirked at me suggestively. "Yup! that's Dan Howell!" she laughed.

I was confused to why she was talking about what sounded like such a sensitive subject so lightly.

"Burned his house down?" I repeated, thinking of his scary brown eyes. My roommate, this 'Dan Howell' had burned his house down?! I tried to act casual but inside my heart rate sped up.

Charlie leaned in too. "He's craaaazzzyyy, Phil." he made a loopy gesture. "I wouldn't get on the wrong side of him mate!"

I winced, thinking of the way Dan had pushed me violently out of the room last night with a twisted smirk on his face. I think I already am on 'Dan Howell's' bad side…

Bethan nodded, leaning back in her chair, still ignoring the drink infron't of her. So was Charlie.

"Apparently he burned his house down, but claims somebody else did.." she fiddled with the ribbons in her hair. "I dunno new boy, I'd be wary of him." she muttered.

I shrugged. "He seems okay.." I lied. Both Charlie and Bethan raised their eyebrows. "You mean he didn't chuck you out of the room last night?" Bethan whispered, Charlie was shaking his head. "No, because you were in bed when we-" he stopped and sighed. "About that.." he started. Bethan looked confused. "About what?" she murmured quietly.

Charlie looked uncomfortable. "Uh…well we um…" he shrugged and sent me a look which pretty much screamed: Don't say anything. "We just welcomed him!" Charlie smiled reassuringly at her and she seemed to believe him. "Oh." then she broke out into a grin. "Charlie you softy!" she teased, digging him in his ribs with her elbow. I couldn't help glaring at Charlie. Why didn't he want Bethan to know about his little initiation ceremony? I scoffed under my breath. Maybe Bethan can't see the twisted side of him. The side which forces the new boy into the woods at 2am and makes him try and find his way back blindfolded in the dark.

"Bethan, could you drink your water please love?" Sandra called over her shoulder as she stood at the cooker, ladling porridge into more bowls. I wonder what excuse I can make so I don't have to eat that lumpy moving gloop in the bowl infron't of me.

"Uh..sure!" Bethan turned and smiled at the house-mother. "I'll drink it in a sec, I just need to-"

"No, drink it now please." Sandra said sternly, not turning away from the cooker.

Charlie rolled his eyes but drank the strange concuction holding his nose. I couldn't help smile when he gagged loudly and started moaning loudly. "What even is it?!" he demanded, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "I don't get it, why do we have to drink it?!"

"Charlie, we have this conversation every morning." Sandra said, setting a plate of fresh bread in the middle of the table. "It's just nutritional water." she explained. Charlie pulled a face. "Well it tastes like cat sick!" he complained. Sandra shrugged. "The head's orders, not mine."

"Well it's nasty and I'm not drinking it anymore." Charlie folded his arms ontop of the table childishly. Then he eyed me. "Did you drink yours?" he mouthed.

I nodded a yes, and his lips curled into a smirk behind Bethan's back. Speaking of Bethan, she twisted in her seat to check where Sandra was. The house-mother had her back turned, stirring steaming porridge in the pan. "Cover me!" Bethan hissed, before standing up, grabbing her glass and walking over to the sink pretending to wash her hands and discreetly chucking the drink down the sink. Charlie watched her open-mouthed.

The brunette then brought her glass back to the table and set it back down, before sitting down herself. "Are you insane?!" Charlie hissed, leaning forward. "Mr. Clayton says that drink is mandatory!" he whispered. "Meaning we HAVE to drink it!"

Bethan shrugged. "You can drink it if you want too, but I'd rather not throw up at this time in the morning." she smiled at him. "Besides, I haven't been drinking it for a while." she mumbled. "No biggie." she traced the table with her bright purple fingernails.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "You're in so much trouble, Bethan."

She winked at him. "Not if nobody finds out…"

Charlie sighed. "Well as disgusting as it is, I don't want to be excluded." he muttered.

"So you're going to carry on drinking it?!" she hissed.

"Yeah, course I am!"

I tuned out of Charlie and Bethan's conversation and my attention was grabbed when more kids started sleepily wandering in and taking their places at the table. I noticed they all downed the drink as soon as they sat down. No complaints or anything.

"Sandra, can I just have some toast?" a boy with curly brown hair and green eyes with Star-Wars pyjama's looked up from his bowl of gloop looking irritated.

"Porridge is only on the menu, PJ." Sandra watched him drink the cloudy water with a small smile. I didn't recognise the boy from last night's "Initiation Ceremony."

PJ muttered something under his breath and spooned up some of his porridge, shoving it into his mouth and chewing, his face contorting. "Lovely!" he said sarcastically through a mouthfull.

While he was chewing, looking like he was trying to swallow, he looked around the room, his gaze skipping past me to Bethan and Charlie- and then back to me.

He swallowed thickly and then shot me a skeptical smile. Like he was trying to figure me out.

"New meat, eh?" he dug into his porridge again and forced another spoonfull into his mouth, chewing mechanically. "What's your name kid?" he mumbled, his mouth full of Sandra's breakfast.

"Phil." I replied, frowning when he grinned, showing me chewed up breakfast. "Alright Phil!" he shouted. "Hey, guys! This is Phil! everyone say hello!" I felt my cheeks go bright crimson and hid behind my fringe. Everyone stopped talking and turned to me.

I couldn't tell if PJ was being genuinely nice, or taking the piss.

"Phil, eh?" a guy who I recognised was sat next to Bethan and Charlie, smirked at me. He was the one with the long-ish black hair and fringe from last night. The one who, along with Zoey, dragged me out of bed forcefully.

"Never seen you before in my life!" he snickered, and a tall boy with a blonde quiff who I also recognised from last night, joined in. "When did you arrive, Phil?" the blonde chirped, leaning on his fist and eyeing me smirking.

"Last night." I replied, suddenly finding great interest in the table.

"Leave him alone Jack!" Bethan spoke up, sending him a glare.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Just making him feel welcome, jeez!"

My house-mates weren't finished yet. There were identical twins sat across from me along with a pale boy with fair whispy hair. One of the twins, wearing blue pyjama's, and his hair a bed-head mess leaned forward. "Phil Lester.." he sounded like he was tasting my name to see if I was worthy of speaking to. "You're Howell's new roommate right?" he questioned.

"Um..yeah." I said, still keeping my gaze on the table.

He scoffed. "And you're not just slightly freaked out?!" I lifted my head to see everyone's gazes on me. Luke and Emma had sat down at some point. They were staring at me too. No sign of the topic of conversation yet though.

"No.." I frowned, remembering what Bethan had said earlier about keeping wary of him.

"He BURNED his house down and blamed it on some randomer!" PJ jumped in excitedly. The boy sat next to him with scruffy brown hair who had been immersed in his nintendo DS spoke up. "Can ya'll shut up! I've nearly evolved!" he shouted in a pretty good fake american accent. Then he grinned at me. "Vwelcome to Hell!" he exclaimed in a russian accent.

"You just met Chris Kendall." Bethan said smiling. "He's…" she paused. "Very special!" she teased.

'Accent-Boy' or Chris, flung some porridge at her using his spoon as a catapult. She squealed when it hit her in the chest and jumped up, grabbing her own bowl of sludge. Chris ducked beneath the table laughing and instead of hitting him, it sailed through the air, hitting one of the twins right in the face. "Bethan!" he yelled, jumping to his feet and grabbing his own handfull of porridge.

This set off a chain reaction of screams and squeaks, followed by porridge flying through the air. Everyone was either standing up now or hiding under the table. Laughter and screams errupting around the kitchen. I stayed sat down, considering either leaving the kitchen or staying in the chaos.

Where was Sandra? I looked around for her but she had disappeared out of the kitchen.

I decided to leave my chair and make for the door. Food was flying everywhere now. A splatter of porridge hit me in my calf and I moved my legs faster to get out.

"Where do you think your going?" I looked up from keeping my gaze on the ground avoiding flying food and once again I was met with my roommates narrowed brown eyes and twisted smirk.

Dan Howell, the supposed fire-starter was blocking the doorway, his eyes on me and me only.

I couldn't help cowering and my heartbeat deteriorating when I thought of what the others had said about him, and then what he had been doing in the woods.

When put together like a messed up jigsaw puzzle, I came to a simple logical conclusion.

My roommate was insane.

"Dan.." I couldn't tear my eyes away from his amused smirk and dark eyes. I wondered if those eyes had witnessed him striking the first match and setting his own parents house ablaze.

"Phil." he folded his arms and stayed in the doorway, his legs a few metres apart so I couldn't squeeze past him.

The others were still too engrossed in their food-fight to notice Dan had even appeared.

"Could you uh..let me past?" I couldn't stop my voice shaking and the corners of his lips twitched. "Um..n-no..I c- can't." he mimicked my stammer and his amused smirk broke out into a dimpled grin and he giggled.

I looked around helplessly. Luke was climbing across the table, using his plate as a shield as he grabbed porridge from left overs and threw them in all directions, hitting the others, so they retalitated by getting him back.

He was going to be no help…

"So, Phil…" Dan started, his gaze on me as I watched the food-fight.

I turned back to him and he reached out and moved my fringe out of my eyes with a giggle. His fingers were surprisingly warm which baffled me. "Didn't I tell you to stay out of my room last night?" he suddenly lost the smile and his eyes narrowed again.

I didn't know what to say, so I shrugged. "I was tired." was all I could say. Speaking to him was becoming difficult because he looks like he wants to murder you and kiss you at the same time.

"You were tired?" Dan repeated, his tone and eyes going darker.

I nodded. "Yeah, tired. Now can you please let me past?"

Dan looked at me. Really looked at me, taking in every inch of my body, then he started to giggle again. "Okay…" he raised his voice so the others turned to see what was going on. He walked over to the table and grabbed a fistfull of porridge from one of the bowls.

I can see where this is going. Then he picked up the bowl and walked back over to me. "Dan…" I said, trying to make my voice a warning, but it just sounded like a frightened squeak. "Phil…" he mimicked before dumping the  
breakfast, to my horror, all over my head.

d.

"Ooooohhhhhh!" the others chorused like an excited football crowd. Porridge was slowly dripping off my fringe and slipping down my face. I wiped as much of it out of my eyes and with it still smearing my vision, I blindly scraped some off my face and flung it back at him.

He dodged my hit still with that fucking stupid smirk on his face.

"What was that for?!" I shook the disgusting gloop out of my hair and tried to stop myself from bursting out crying. My cheeks were burning with embarassment and my throat was choked up.

Dan shrugged smirking. "Dunno, I was tired." he mocked my northern accent which sounded ridiculous when he was a southerner.

I just stared at him incrediously, before ducking my head mortified.

"WHAT ON EARTH HAS BEEN GOING ON IN HERE?!" someone, a familiar croaky screech bellowed from the doorway. Those who were still throwing food at each other froze. Luke, Bethan and Emma quickly slipped off the table and the others dropped the porridge which was in their hands.

I lifted my head up, cheeks still burning, to look past a triumphant Dan infron't of me, to Sandra standing in the doorway looking furious, Zoey who looked spaced out and the girl with curly hair from last night, the one with the Spongebob pyjama's, stood either side of her. The girl was staring at the scene before her, a smile curving on her lips.

"Woah, what happened?" she asked, her eyes on me covered in porridge, and Dan, completely clean of it.

Zoey was just staring through everyone, a dopy and far-away smile on her face. "Hi guys.." she murmured happily, swinging her arms. She was the complete opposite from this morning.

Sandra walked in. "What happened? Who started this?!" she demanded, her eyes on the surfaces covered in porridge.

"Dan and Phil!" Charlie shouted. "Sandra, Dan came in and just dumped his breakfast all over Phil!" to my surprise- not- everyone, even Bethan and Luke nodded eagerly.

Dan didn't even bother defending himself and I was too embarassed to even lift my head up.

"Charlie's right, Sandra!" PJ piped in. I couldn't see him but I could pratically see his amused smirk.

"Yeah, they started it all." another boy confirmed.

"Right, Phil I'm very disappointed in you. It's your first day!" Sandra shouted. I flinched and kept my eyes glued to the floor tiles.

"And Dan, I'm hardly surprised you're involved in this young man"

I peeked through my fringe to see Dan shrugging. "Sorry?" he was rolling his eyes cockily at the house-mother.

Sandra sighed. "Dan and Phil, you can stay here and clean up, and as for the rest of you, go and get dressed and cleaned up for god's sake, how old are you lot?!" she rolled her eyes at the porridge covered teenagers as they traipsed out muttering to each-other.

Once the others were gone, Sandra dug in the cleaning cupboard for a mop bucket and handed it to Dan. He took it silently and wandered over to the sink to fill it up. "I want this room how I left it," she ordered sternly.

"Also, Phil, your mum wants to speak to you on the phone in reception when you're done." she said leaving the room. "Clean yourselves up when you're done!"

I grabbed a sponge and started scrubbing the cabinets and chairs. The quicker I get this done, the quicker I can speak to mum.

Even when I kinda really want to scream down the phone at her for sending me here.

I dunked my sponge in the bucket Sandra had supplied me with and started scraping porridge from the table legs and top. It was stuck like glue so I had to use my fingernails.

Dan tapped his foot inpatiently while waiting for the bucket to fill up. "Fucking stay out of my room, Phil Lester." he growled, not turning away from the sink.

I tried to ignore him, occasionally picking bits of dried porridge out of my hair. I felt disgusting with sticky gloop all over my face.

This is going to be a fun hour.

~  
"Done!" Dan shouted, louder than neccasary. With a breath of relief, he dropped his own cloth back in the bucket and leant against the sink. I scrubbed the last bit of porridge off the patterned floor tiles and jumped to my feet.

The kitchen looked sparkling. Me and Dan did a pretty good job. All the surfaces were clean of porridge and the floor no longer a slippy death-trap. Sandra came in with her arms folded. Her beady eyes judging mine and Dan's job.

"Satisfactory." She said, walking walking over to the table and sweeping it with her finger.

"Satisfactory?!" Dan hissed under his breath. "I did better than satisfactory!" he rolled his eyes at the house-mother.

"So did I…" I muttered, sending him a look. He just stuck his tongue out childishly at me.

"Right, Dan, you go and clean yourself up, and Phil your mum is on the phone in reception." Sandra gestured to the door and I nodded making my way out.

I felt Dan's eyes burning into the back of my head all the way to the reception area.

~  
"Mum?" I mumbled, wiping porridge off my cheek with a cloth Sandra had given to me. I stood in the admissions office behind Penny's desk holding the old fashioned phone to my ear.

"Phil?" Mum's voice was kind and laced with concern. I swiped at my eyes before I started crying like a baby again. "Phil, have you been crying honey?"

I sniffed and forced a smile, gripping the phone tighter. "No, I'm fine, mum!" I said trying to reassure her. But my voice was thick and it was impossible to stop myself sniffing, trying to disguise the pauses in my sentences.

"How're you settling in?" she asked with a chuckle. "Made any friends?"

I thought of Dan, and my eyes started stinging again. "Yes!" I lied. "Yes, I've made a lot of friends…" I paused. "They're…all so nice!"

"Phil, what's up honey?" she murmured making me sob harder. There's one thing about her that I hate, and that's that she can always tell when I'm lying.

"Nothing," I mumbled, twirling the phone wire around my finger. "Just…when can I come home?"

There was a pause before a female voice on her side of the line crackled over an intercom.

"Would Doctor Lester please make her way to Ward 6B please."

Mum sighed. "Look Phil, I need to go in a minute!" she said quickly, then after an awkward pause she asked me if I wanted to meet her in town for a coffee on Monday after school.

"Sure.." I mumbled quietly. I spied Penny at the corner of my eye looking sympathetic, holding a wad of Kleenex tissues.

"Okay hun, well I'll see you on Monday, I love you!" she was clearly in a hurry. "You too." I murmured and she put the phone down with a final goodbye.

I set the phone back down and sighed, wiping my eyes and trying to compose myself. I really need a shower.

Before Penny could leap on me with her sympathy, I walked out of the office and into the hall to run upstairs for a shower.

Where's the bathroom again? I stopped in the hall and looked around, searching for familiarity.

Then someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to see Dan of all people standing there with his usual glare and raised eyebrows. He had changed out of his pyjama's into a colourfull patchwork T-shirt with skinny jeans and had straightened his curly hair which he was running his left hand through irritably.

I didn't say anything. I could feel my cheeks warming and he noticed, obviously enjoying my discomfort. "I need to take you on a tour apparently.." he grunted, his posh voice not suiting his persona. Then to my surprise he grabbed my hand. His skin was still abnormally warm. "Follow me or whatever." he said, dragging me by my arm through the wooden door leading upstairs.

Ha. He said, "Follow me" as if I had an actual choice..

~  
"Walls, door, walls, door, walls, door, walls, doo-" Dan skipped down the corridor with me reluctently dragging my feet behind him. As much as I loved his surprisingly detailed history of the origins of doors and walls, I really wanted to move onto actual rooms I needed to know about.

"Dan, can you show me rooms now?" I interrupted for what must have been the twentieth time. We were on- what? the third floor of the house and all I had learned so far was more about the interior of the house than the actual rooms. The corridor was less posh than the others, it looked more run down with it's carpet peeling from the floorboards. Eight doors lined the hall, all looking worn.

Dan stopped his 'Walls and door' repetition which was starting to sound like a chant and turned around to face me. "They told me to show you EVERYTHING, so that's what I'm doing!" he smirked, his creepy eyes narrowed more than usual. I cannot be doing with this guy. He's driving me mad.

I sighed. "Just show me actual rooms okay? I'm really tired and just want to sleep." I told him. It was late in the afternoon now. This tour had been going on for ages and I was losing my mind with Dan's sarcastic explanations of, "The House of Hell" he liked to call it. Hadn't Chris said that?

Dan rolled his eyes. "Well tough! I'm not stopping this tour untill we have covered every single inch of this house and the school," he folded his arms and smiled innocently. He was pretty shit at acting fake because his "smile" looked more like a grimace.

I felt like arguing, but I was too tired. Nobody was on the third floor apart from me and Dan so it was pretty desolate. Most of the rooms were spare and empty, or stored food and cleaning products.

"Onwards!" my roommate exclaimed. I stared at him trying to understand the boy. Has he got a split personality? Or bipolar?!

"Okay, let's skip a few floors cos nobody really cares about this floor." Dan made his way over to the lift at the end of the winding corridor which must have been installed recently since it looked pretty modern. I followed him into the lift and he turned to the button panel. "Oohh…where shall we go?" he said in his mocking voice dripping with sarcasm.

The lift was a metal box with sliding doors. Not much more to describe. It wasn't fancy or anything. Just normal and plain. Though it was definitely a clostraphobics nightmare.

I stayed silent, eyeing the button marked 'Cellar' which somebody had coloured in red with marker.

"Spooky.." I muttered, rolling my eyes. Dan scoffed. "That's nothing, why don't we go down to the cellar?" he lowered his voice to a soft murmur and once again my cheeks blazed and I cursed silently. "I'm…. um…tired." I tried to say, moving away from him.

"Too late!" Dan punched the Cellar button and the metal doors slammed shut, locking me inside.

Then the lift dropped with speed which took my breath away. I stumbled into the doors and Dan just laughed, staggering too.

"Did I mention this lift has been broken for a week?!" he shouted over the oily screams of the lifts mechanisms.

"What?!" I screamed back, my stomach leaping into my throat.

"Don't worry!" he laughed, his eyes shining with amusement. He had that stupid dimpled grin plastered on his face. "It only breaks if you jump!" then to my horror he started jumping up and down and my heart nearly pounded out of my chest as the lift groaned from every impact Dan made as he bounced.

"STOP!" I squeaked, holding onto the walls for dear life.

Thankfully the lift stopped with a jolt and the doors slid open. I stumbled out holding my breath so I didn't throw up. My head was spinning and I could feel my pulse in my arms. Which can't be healthy. Dan walked out too and turned to me, his smile had completely disappeared.

I hadn't noticed because I was fighting back nausea, but I realised as soon as I set foot into the cellar, squinting blindly, that I was surrounded by darkness.

"This.." my roommate said gravely, as I studied- or tried- to study my surroundings.

"This is where they did the experiments."


	4. Chapter 4

~Quatre

°°°°  
I stared at Dan incrediously, not sure if he was actually serious. I tried to avoid his intimidating gaze, instead I scanned the creepy cellar of the boarding house. The cellar had five washing machines with dirty washing, piled into washing baskets. Bottles of detergent balancing on each washer.

"Experiments?" I repeated slowly, frowning at him. He nodded grimly. "Yeah," he smirked when I flinched. "Legend says.." he leaned into the wall with folded arms. Then he frowned. "Well, when I say 'Legend' I mean PJ Liguori." he rolled his eyes. "Anyway. PJ says that this house used to be used to experiment on teenagers." he said softly, for once he actually sounded serious.

I choked out a bewildered laugh. "What?!" I folded my own arms and cocked my brows at him. "You can't seriously expect me to believe that!" I scoffed at him.

He sighed. "Fine. Don't believe me Phil Lester." his gaze never left me and I shuffled uncomfortably. Not wanting to go back in the broken lift, yet also not wanting to stay in the cellar with Dan one minute longer. "Would you stop doing that!" I hissed exasperated.

He lifted a brow frowning. "Doing what?"

"That! that 'Phil Lester' crap!" I exclaimed. "My name's Phil, Dan! just call me Phil!"

He smirked again. "Well first things first Phil Lester," he grinned when he said that. "I happen to hate you, and I annoy people I hate." he smiled smugly.

"Oh?" my eyebrows shot up. "Do you take people you hate on tour's too?"

His eyes darkened. "I was forced to." he growled softly. I raised my eyebrows this time. "Right."

"I'd believe him if I were you.." a sudden gruff voice murmured. I frowned. "What?!" I blinked at Dan confused. "What did you just say?" I whispered.

Dan, to my surprise, looked equally confused. "I didn't say anything Phil Lester." he sighed, looking bored and amused.

"About the experiments I mean, not whatever else you were bickering about." I span around, scanning the darkness. But nobody else was in here. The voice was a young guy, about my age. With a strong American accent.

I eyed Dan who was playing with his fringe. "Why are you staring at me?" he suddenly demanded, straightening up. "What?" he walked over to me so he was yet again three meters away from my face. His breath tickled my nose when he giggled. "Like what you see?" he murmured, cocking his eyebrow. I didn't say anything but a blush spread across my cheeks.

He giggled louder, yet his eyes narrowed darkly. "Oh, you do?"

"Can someone get me a barf bag?" the american voice moaned. "Really guys, in the cellar?!"

I took a shaky step backwards. "Who- who said that?!"

Dan clearly didn't hear the voice because for once he didn't have that arrogant smirk on his face.

"What?" Dan demanded warily. Then I saw realisation light up in his eyes and he grinned. "Oh! you might be able to hear the ghostly voices of the dead kids!" he whispered in an attempted spooky voice. But he just sounded like a five year old kid telling ghost stories.

"What?!" I hissed.

He shrugged. "Yanno, the one's who were experimented on." he said casually, but I could tell from the look on his face that he was wary too. His eyes kept darting around the isolate room.

"It's true.." the american voice mumbled sadly. Suddenly I felt his breath in my ear and I had to bite back a scream. I risked a glance behind me and saw- to my relief and horror- nobody there.

"What's true?!" I demanded, my hands were shaking and there was an accute pain in my temples.  
Dan frowned. "Alright Phil Lester, you're scaring me now." he muttered tonelessly. He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Right, what are you supposedly seeing then?"

I shook my head. "Nothing- it's…it's nothing." I mumbled.

"Nothing?!" the voice hissed. "Isn't me just whispering in your ear basically confirming what Mr. Arrogant is trying to say!"

I span around, once again being faced with nothing but empty space. "Jesus man, you can't see me…yet." the voice murmured. "Plus stop making it so freaking obvious!"

"I'm….not." I mumbled, glancing at Dan who was wide- eyed. "Who the fuck are you talking too?!" he hissed. "Are you broken?" he screwed the side of his head with his index finger. "Can you see things which aren't there?" he laughed nastily at his own joke. If it even was one. I'm not sure.

"Wow, he's a dick." the american voice muttered. I felt a shiver fly down my spine and resisted the urge to full on freak the hell out.

"Who's there? Is this- is this a joke?" I whimpered. Again I could feel his presence. But when I turned to look, there was nobody there. "No!" the voice hissed irritated. "Does this sound like a joke?" he murmured softly. "Listen to me, dude. Don't react. Just wait, okay?" I stared at the empty space and squinted. I'm hearing things right?

"Hey! Earth to Phil!" I turned to Dan wafting his hand infron't of ny face madly. "Anyone there?!" he clicked his fingers repeatedly, looking pretty wild. His eyes were wide and looked pretty scared and his lips for once weren't twisted into an irritating smirk.

He looked calm last night in the woods when he was speaking to empty space. Just like me? I definitely heard that guy's voice, unless this is all part of a sick joke to scare the new guy again.

"What?" I focused on him and tried not to sneak a look behind me to try and spy the owner of the mysterious voice which was whispering in my ear.

"Who," Dan gasped, his eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. "Who the FUCK are you talking too?" he folded his arms trying to look aggressive but he looked as scared and wary as me.

"Nobody." I heard myself say, but I wasn't sure why I said it. He stared at me for a moment before forcing a laugh and rolling his eyes. "Fucking hell I was wrong about one thing," he said shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

"What's that?" I couldn't help asking. He shrugged. "I thought you didn't belong here because you're normal-" he pulled a face, "Normal and boring." then he grinned. "Turn's out your fucked up in the head like everyone else!"

Everyone else was fucked up in the head?! If anyone's messed up it's Dan freaking Howell. Yeah the others are slightly unhinged and maybe some of them have anger issues, but they're not 'fucked up in the head' if anyone is, it's Dan.

"And why's that?" I found myself saying.

He chuckled, walking a full circle behind me before coming back to face me. "Zoey." he said simply. And before I could open my mouth he followed up that random comment. "Mad Zoey?" he folded his arms across his chest. "Did you know Zoey freaks out every so often? she comes down to breakfast and for no reason at all goes off her head?"

I thought back to her having to be sedated and my stomach flipped. "So?" I mimicked Dan's body language and it almost looked like I was staring into a mirror. Well, where my reflection was slightly different. When I had brunette hair instead of jet black and my fringe flipped. A confident and sarcastic smirk on my lips instead of my usual wary anxious frown.

"So?" once again Dan mimicked my voice. "How about Luke?" he said casually. Then he lowered his voice. "Bet ya didn't know he killed his little cousin did you?"

I thought of Luke. Funny, innocent Luke. But then I also thought of Luke randomly in the forest last night. Was he really just in there looking for me? I shivered again. Luke wouldn't do that. What am I thinking? I hardly know him!

"And Emma." Dan continued, his facial expression getting less intimidating and more knowing. "She was sent here because she nearly drowned her entire swimming team." Emma. The girl I couldn't understand. She was…strange. But she wouldn't do that.

Right?

"Bethan…" Dan carried on in a bored tone. "She claimed she was 'seeing screaming people' at her annual music gig at school and got sent here." Bethan?! he has to be lying. Does he mean 'Ribbons in her hair' sweet Bethan who welcomed me at breakfast?!

"PJ," Dan said. "That boy stabbed someone in the eye with a pencil" he sighed. "Do you want me to go on?" he asked. I shook my head and turned to go back in the lift. I can't stay down here any longer. But he blocked my way out and his bored frown ignited into a dimpled grin when he realised he was actually scaring me. "Chris," he breathed the boys name in my face and once again I found myself blushing. "Chris was sent here because he tried to kill himself…" he paused for effect. "He said he kept seeing death. Death EVERYWHERE!" he suddenly shouted making me stumble backwards so my back was pressed to the lift. Dan was so close I could hear his breaths slow and steady, his eyes boring into mine, waiting for a reaction.

This guy had truly lost it. I tried not to think about the things he had said about the others but his words kept replaying in my mind.

So even when PJ had told me about Dan supposedly setting fire to his parents house, even he had something to hide.

I clenched my fists and tried not to look scared but I'm sure my bottom lip was trembling. And I bet Dan fucking Howell loved that.

"If you're waiting for me to run out screaming you'll be waiting a long time." I said, trying to keep my breathing under control. Dan shrugged. "Maybe." he murmured, his breath once again in my face. "But what about you Phil Lester?" he said quietly. "Why were you sent here?" he flicked me in on the forehead and giggled, that stupid dimple appearing again. "Why, Phil Lester," he said slowly and dangerously, his lips twisting into an almost grimace. "Why exactly were YOU," he poked me in the chest and I swallowed. "Sent here?"

Dan was really getting me on my nerves. I side stepped away from him and tried to catch my breath. "I came here because my mum sent me here." I replied simply.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Really?!" he covered his mouth in mock shock. "Wow Phil Lester, that's not surprising at all!" he gasped and I gritted my teeth.

"Stop calling me that!" his consecutive use of my first and last name was driving me mad.

"What?" he grinned. "By your name?" he chuckled but quickly got over his little moment of hysteria which he seems to keep having. "No seriously Phil Lester, why were you sent here?"

I sighed. "Why do you care?"

He smirked. That stupid smirk. "I don't!" he grinned. "I'm just curious, new kid." he spat the words 'new kid' in my face, and I flinched. "So go on!" he shouted, still refusing to get out of my face.

"I- I don't know!" I stammered back. "My- my mum- sh- she-"

Dan laughed. "Aw- w- was y-your m-m-mummy mean and s-send y-you to a sc-scary b-boarding school?" he sneered, taking the piss out of my stammer.

"N-no!" I tried to say and he raised his eyebrows. Take a deep breath Phil, and take it slowly.

"No." I said. "I was seeeennt here to get an educaaaattttiiooon." I dragged out my words as if he was the slow one.

"What. Are. You. Impying?" he growled quietly. "I asked you a simple fucking question Phil Lester," he poked me in the chest again and dug his fingernail in.

"Maybe I don't want to answer." I muttered, slowly gaining confidence.

"Why?" he sounded desperate. "Just tell me! It's not hard!"

I'd had enough. I turned and pushed the lift button and the metalic doors slid open easily.

Though I didn't walk in. I just stood there staring helplessly. I can't go in there! Dan said been broken for weeks. Is there another way out?

Suddenly the sound of footsteps on concrete and Dan cursed to himself. "Dan?" a female voice shouted. "Daniel, are you down here?"

So there was another way out. A staircase. I tried to make my way towards the sound of descending footsteps but Dan grabbed my arm and yanked me back. "No!" he whispered desperately. "Stay!"

"Get off-!" I hissed back. "Just leave me alone-" the female voice interrupted me and sounded closer. She was in the cellar now.

I squinted in the darkness, trying to find her. There was a click and the room ignited with bright light. Once again I was blinded with black spots invaded my vision and rubbed my eyes trying to see through the intense light.

"What are you two doing down here?" there was tall women with greying hair wearing a blue tracksuit standing there with her arms folded. "Daniel?" she walked towards him and I swear he took a step backwards to try and get away. "And you must be Phillip!"

I nodded while Dan stood there staring at her, eyes narrowed.

She sighed. "Daniel, empty your pockets." she said sternly.

"But I haven't-" he tried to protest.

"Now. Or I will empty them for you."

He sent me a desperate look which looked like a silent cry for help, but then his eyes darkened and he just scowled at me. "I was showing Phil the cellar Miss Jackson." he said cooly. I noticed he had stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets.

The teacher, 'Miss Jackson' shook her head and held out her hand. "Matches." she said. "Give them to me Dan."

"I haven't got any!" he growled.

"You clearly have Mr Howell!" she pointed to the small lump in his jeans pocket. "Come on." she gestured with a sigh. "Hand them over or I'll be telling Mr. Clayton."

"I haven't got any!" he shouted again at her.

Then the teacher pulled something out of her tracksuit pocket and I stared, dumfounded. Is that a syringe?! Is she really going to sedate him because he's not giving up a box of matches?!

Dan's eyes widened too and suddenly he was digging in his pockets and pulling out three- no four boxes of matches and chucking them at the teacher.

They landed at her feet and she bent down and picked them up.

"Where did you get these?" she straightened up. "Dan, what have I told you about playing with fire?!" she tucked the syringe back into her pocket.

"Dunno." he mumbled. He didn't look so scary when he was being yelled at by a teacher. "I just need them for something." he said quietly.

"And what's that?" the teacher pressed.

"Nothing." he mumbled again.

"Right." she said. "Well dinner's ready. You can resume this tour after you've eaten." then she looked at me. "Do you want to carry on the tour?" she asked.

Dan's head whipped up and he sent me what looked like a threatening look. Is he trying to threaten me into saying yes?!

"No." I looked the teacher in the eye. "No miss, I want to go to bed afterwards."

The corners of her mouth turned. "No Phil, bedtime is at ten O clock. The students usually have free time after dinner so why not go into the lounge and play a boardgame or watch a film?"

No, I just want to sleep! But I found myself nodding an okay and following Miss Jackson back up a concrete staircase leading back upstairs. Dan followed me, purposely taking his time.

I took two steps at a time, making my way quickly after the teacher. Dan suddenly picked up his pace and caught up to me, pressing himself against me so his breath tickled my ear. "Don't drink the water." he breathed so only I could hear him. "You hear me?!"

"Go away." I muttered, pushing past him.

But his words played over and over again in my head all the way through dinner. And I actually listened to him. Like Bethan, I threw my drink down the sink.

Why was I listening to him?!

The weird drink, the unstable house-mates who may have done what Dan said they had done, the ghostly voice in the cellar only I could hear, and of course; Why did Dan have matches in his pockets?!

"He set his parents house on fire!" PJ's voice exclaimed in my head.

Was Dan really a fire-starter or was there more to it?


	5. Chapter 5

**_Cinco. _**

After dinner I went straight to bed. I was exhausted after today and my head hurt like hell. Questions still flew round in my head which I desperately wanted answering. Like who was that voice in the basement? Why could only I hear him? and everything Dan said about the others. Emma almost drowning her swim team, the weird kid with curly brown hair; PJ? him stabbing someone with a pencil? that can't be true. It's Dan himself I should be wary of!

Like why did he have four boxes of matches confiscated? Was he really a fire-starter like the others had said? As weird and creepy as Dan Howell was, I did listen to him when he hissed in my ear not to drink the strange 'water' everyone is forced to drink. Bethan tipped hers down the sink at dinner when Sandra turned her back and Dan didn't bother being discreet. He just threw his in the sink, the glass shattering. Sandra had disappeared again, probably gone to get more cat sick/porridge.

I climbed the stairs making sure to take my time. It was pretty late and most of the students were in the lounge watching 'The Women In Black' hopefully I can go to the bathroom without Zoey having a mental breakdown again. There was no sign of Dan. I think he's in his room. As soon as everyone had washed their dishes and tidied away, he shot out of the kitchen having nicked a few digestives from the cupboard.

"Hey, mate! it's your turn to pick a film for movie night!" Casper, a mousy brunette with blonde highlights originally from South Africa yelled after him. Casper seemed nice. He had smiled at me at dinner before going back to playing his PSP under the table.

"No, I don't care.." Dan had muttered, before disappearing with the stolen biscuits. I'd been staring at him while cleaning my plate at the sink with Luke. "It's his turn and he's not bothered?" the boy murmured to me whilst squeezing washing up liquid in the bowl. "He's normally pretty excited.." Luke muttered frowning. I snorted. Dan? excited about movie night? I pictured him giggling in his sleep and his dimpled grin when he flicked my fringe out of my face. Dan had a split personality. One minute he was happy and giggling, next he's throwing his breakfast all over me and threatening me, his lip curled into an evil smirk, eyes glinting.

Casper, who was stacking plates with Bethan, who kept smacking him playfully with a tea towel, shrugged. "Fine, I'll pick the film."

Then Luke, Casper and Bethan had gone to watch the film. I really didn't feel like making conversation with anyone, plus I was tired, so I practically dragged myself up each plush red-carpeted step. I planned to have a wash and brush my teeth before getting into bed with my iPod and just forgetting everything. Including all the weird things, which have happened today. I can't help thinking that there's no logical explanation to the American guy in the basement.

The rest could be Dan just trying to scare me. Though why would Zoey have to be sedated if there were no problems with the students? Plus, Miss. Jackson, the teacher who caught me and Dan in the basement. She had a syringe in her pocket. Was it part of some kind of procedure? Did this happen all the time?

The look on Dan's face as Miss. Jackson approached him though. He looked terrified. His twisted smirk disappearing and the look of a frightened child in its place.

I scanned the golden plated numbers on each door down the corridor, feeling a rush of Deja-vu when I caught sight of room number eight with the brown mahogany door and threatening message tacked to the wood with tape and blue-tack. The Pokémon I still couldn't name looked almost intimidating, stuck to the door as if it was Dan's personal guard keeping out unwanted visitors.

"Dan?" I knocked once, and then cursed myself for even having the decency to be polite. He hates me, why should I be nice to him?

I pressed my face to the wood once again and let out an irritated groan before jumping back startled, when something hit the other side of the door. "Leave me alone!" Dan's voice was a scared wail from inside our room and I found myself pressing my ear to the door. I could hear heavy breathing from inside, accompanied with small gasps. Obviously coming from Dan.

"JUST GO! I SAID I DON'T NEED HELP!" Dan cried, then something hit the door again and I flinched and stumbled backwards.

"LEAVE!" Dan screamed, there was a louder bang and several things hit the door. I couldn't take it anymore. "Dan?" I knocked quickly and to my surprise the door was flung open, nearly flying off its hinges. Dan appeared looking flustered, his fringe stuck to his flushed face. He was gasping, trying to catch his breath.

"Phil?" his scared eyes narrowed into his usual glare. "What do you want?" he hissed, running his hand through his hair, stressed.

"I…" I struggled for words, a million questions on my lips, like whom was he talking to?! I peered behind him and glimpsed something white smeared all over the wall. "Well?!" Dan snapped me out if it. He sighed and folded his arms. "S-spit it out!" he mimicked my stammer, rolling his eyes. But I noticed he was trying to make the gap in the door smaller like he was trying to hide something. I rolled my own eyes, mimicking his body language.

"This is my room?" I tapped my foot impatiently. "I want to have a wash and then go to bed, but-" I frowned at him. "You're blocking my way?" I kicked his foot out of the way and he staggered, caught off guard. "What are you even doing?" I walked into the room to find papers and books, clothes and even photo frames cluttering the floor. There was white stuff- toothpaste? smeared everywhere.

I turned on my heel, ready to question him, when he grabbed me by my collar and slammed me against the door, his hot breath in my face when he spat at me. "This is NOT your fucking room Phil Lester." he growled softly and dangerously. His eyes were wild and hair everywhere. I shot him an irritated glare. "What are you doing? This IS my room, I was assigned it!" I spat back at him.

His grip tightened round my neck and suddenly a red-hot feeling of agony ran across my skin and I yelped in pain, struggling out of his grasp. "You…you burnt me!" I scanned his hands for matches but he looked equally startled. "What? no…no I didn't!" he hissed, taking a few steps backwards.

"Yes-" I hesitated, unsure if I was imagining it or not. I touched the spot on my neck where the skin had gone flaky and raw. "Look!"

Dan was shaking, his eyes wild and terrified. "I-you were imagining it." he said slowly, as if he was trying to reassure himself.

I stared at him incredulously. My own hands were shaking and I felt sick to my stomach. "I'm- I'm going for a shower…" I said slowly, avoiding his piercing eyes. Then I turned and walked out of the room, still overwhelmed with fear and questions. I shut the door behind me and stood in the silent and empty corridor for a few minutes, leaning against the Pokémon poster. Dan had burnt my neck. Without matches. How is that even possible?

Should I tell someone? I scoffed. Would anyone believe me if I said Dan burnt me…with nothing to actually cause physical harm with?

I made my way down the corridor to the bathroom at the end of the hall. I was still shaking and my neck was stinging. I kept touching it gingerly stroke my fingers across the damaged peeling skin and cringing. Dan must have struck a match behind my back or had a lighter hidden up his sleeve.

He wasn't wearing a long sleeved shirt though. He was wearing a simple black T-shirt with a skull in the middle. How could he have possibly caught me with a match? I would have noticed! I remembered the way his fingers had wound round my neck, slowly blocking my airwaves. His skin felt warm. But that was just him right?

"Yes." I said to myself, out loud. Dan had been yelling at someone before I even came. He was hot and flustered and scared. Yes, that's it. That's a good explanation. Though he couldn't have been hot enough to burn me. That's impossible. I shook my head and groaned. Stop thinking, Phil. I told myself mentally.

Who was Dan talking to anyway? As far as I know, the others are all downstairs watching a film. Was he talking to himself? Shouting at himself?! I played with my fringe fidgeting. I was standing outside the bathroom door now, debating whether to go in or not.

"Hello?" I mumbled, knocking a few times on the grainy wooden door. There was no response thank god so I pulled the door open and walked in, shutting the door quietly behind me.

The bathroom was silent as usual. It's familiarity calmed me slightly and I stayed on unsteady legs, leaning against the door, breathing heavily. For a few seconds it was nice calm silence while I caught my breath and waited for the constant stinging in my neck to fade. My breathing became more paced and normal and the sick feeling in my gut dispersed leaving me peckish.

And then suddenly I was ripped out of my thoughts by a ear piercing female scream followed by violent splashes of water and muffled cries. I straightened up, my gaze automatically finding the bath in my line of vision. But it looked older and grime lined the edges, shampoo and shower gel non-existent. The whole bathroom looked dirty and dank, red staining the tiles. Another scream, and a girls head broke the surface of the bath which was filled to the brim, overflowing in a rush of red water, splashing all over the tiles.

The girls mouth was open in a silent, terrified scream, rushes of deep red scarlet ran down her face and dribbled from her nose and mouth. Her eyes were blue. Way too blue. The girl's iris was practically shining, which wasn't normal. She was blonde, her hair plastered to her face and forehead. "STOP!" she screamed, fighting back against thin air. But when I squinted, it wasn't thin air at all. It was a women in dark clothing, knelt next to the bath, her hands were grabbing the girls head dunking her underneath.

"No!" The girls cries were muffled when water flew into her mouth and nose again, filling her lungs up and choking her. She flailed desperately, her hands gripping the edges of the tub. But the women kept her underneath until she stopped thrashing water everywhere. Her hands slipped limply into the water, and she lay still. The women stood over her now holding a clipboard and pen.

"Subject 347. Elizabeth Mason." she eyed the poor girl. "Deceased."

I stood there staring, my stomach had found its way into my throat and I let out a whine, which slowly turned into a fully blown squeak.

"No…le-leave her-" I didn't know what I was saying. I felt like I was going to throw up. I started to run- or stumble towards the poor girl trying to save her. "What- what did you-?" my trainers slipped in the scarlet puddle around the bath and I fell straight on my backside. It took me a few seconds to realise someone was screaming. Someone else.

Someone screaming AT me.

"Phil?! Hey, what the hell are you doing?" a familiar voice shattered the vision before me and I found myself lying on the actual bathroom tiles. They weren't flooded, and the dead girl in the bath had melted away. Leaving what I was looking at before. The bath- white and normal. Lined with shampoo and soap. There was no mouldy tiles and blood stained water. I swiped at my eyes wiping away moisture. I was crying. I sniffed and turned to face Zoey, who was frowning at me. She was in her dressing gown and slippers, her hair in a long ponytail and her hair dryer and straighteners in her hands.

"Phil?" she repeated. "Phil, are you crying?" she raised her eyebrows, though her tone was soft. She padded into the bathroom looking at me warily. "You're really pale.." she murmured. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

I tried to speak, but all that uttered from my mouth was a moan. I considered Zoey's question. Was I okay? I had just seen a girl get drowned by someone in an older looking version of this bathroom. I had watched her die. Stared as she was pronounced dead by the women who suffocated her.

I pulled myself to my feet, trying to shake the image out of my head. "Yes?" I said it like a question, staring past Zoey. I couldn't get the women's haunting words out of my head. "Subject 347. Elizabeth Mason." the women had wrote something in pen. "Deceased." she had confirmed in an emotionless tone.

"Yes? I'm- I'm…" I stammered over my words. "The…the girl.." I turned and stared at the bath, which was empty. No traces of a drowning girl or bloody water.

"Girl?" Zoey repeated. "What girl?" she followed my gaze. "What are you talking about?" she hissed, her tone hardening.

"The- the…" I tried to talk but my throat was dry and felt like it was closing in. I swallowed and forced a smile. "N-nothing." I cleared my throat and walked towards the door, my legs felt like they were going to collapse. "I- I- I'm fine."

'No, it's not fine!" she hissed. "You look really freaked out! What did you see?"

I opened my mouth to answer when someone popped their head round the door. "I heard screaming. What's going on?"

Luke walked in wearing a hoodie, jeans and he was barefoot. "Phil?" He frowned at me. "You okay mate?" I didn't answer and Zoey shrugged. "He's being weird. I don't know.." she let out an exasperated sigh and shot me a look before turning with a swish of her ponytail and padding out of the bathroom. "Tell me when you're done, I need to have a shower!" she shouted over her shoulder.

When Zoey had gone, Luke shut the door behind her and turned to me with a sigh. "Right, what did he do?" he asked softly.

"Who?" I found my voice, but it was shaky and I couldn't calm my racing heart.

"Dan!" Luke rolled his eyes. "What's he done?" he lowered his voice. "Has he set fire to something?"

Yes, nearly me. But I didn't say that because I didn't have enough evidence to go round accusing him. Yes, he did burn me. But…maybe he pricked me with a needle? It's the same pain right?

No, shut up. I cursed myself silently. He BURNT me! There's no other way about it. But I can't think about that right now. Not when something- something I don't understand…something which I would normally watch on TV or read about, has happened to me. Me. Boring ol' Phil Lester.

I saw someone die. I'm insane. I do belong here. Because seeing that kind of thing is NOT normal.

"Phil?" Luke cocked his head. "What's up?"

I kept my eyes on the tiles. "Nothing.." I mumbled, shuffling uncomfortably. Luke sighed and I knew he was rolling his eyes without even looking at him.

"For god's sake, Phil. Something's obviously spooked you!" he went over to the sink and turned the cold tap on. I flinched when the water came rushing out, the image of blood stained water coming back in one ugly memory.

"I'm fine." I swallowed. "I just- He's being a bit of a dick that's all."

Luke snorted. "Yeah, that's Dan." he grabbed a face-towel and ran it under the tap before chucking it at me. "You're bright red, cool yourself down mate." I caught it and with a barely audible, 'thanks'

"Are you going to bed now?" Luke turned to the door. "Cos' the others are downstairs watching a film in the lounge" he shrugged. "Do you want to come downstairs and watch it?" Luke gestured with his head out the door. "It's better than arguing with 'Mr. I'm on fire' all night." his lip curled slightly.

"Uh..No, I'd rather just go to bed." I smiled. Or tried to. "But thanks."

He nodded. "Kay then." then he pulled the door open and walked out, letting it creak shut behind him. After Luke had gone I washed quickly, terrified of whatever happened, happening again. I dressed back into a spare pair of pyjama's draped over the cabinet next to the bath and padded out of the bathroom and down the corridor to my room.

I didn't bother knocking this time. There were far more things I had on my mind than psychopathic Dan Howell. Dan Howell who- who BURNS people and sets fire to his own parent's house!

I opened the door, gently pushing the handle down and held my breath before stepping in. I had my dirty clothes I'd been wearing all day in my arms so I hope he doesn't push me out again like last time. I stepped over the threshold into, shockingly, actual light. The lights were on, which was weird because Dan usually never had them switched on.

Frowning, I studied the room. It was pretty much the same. Dan's untidy bed strewn with empty crisp packets and books. I noticed he'd tidied up a bit. Scrubbing toothpaste off the walls and adding more MUSE posters.

My gaze went from his bed, to the wardrobe- and then to him.

He was standing with his arms folded with his usual annoyed grimace. Also, weirdly, he was holding a piece of chalk. Dan was already in his pyjamas, and from the look of his hair, it looked like he'd been straightening it before I walked in. Wait…straightening his hair at nearly eleven at night?!

"Phil Lester." Dan rolled his eyes at me. "Okay, so Penny nearly had a nervous breakdown because I wanted her to move you away from me…" he grumbled. "So…urgh-" he shrugged. "I guess you can stay here?" he looked at the floor and shuffled uncomfortably.

I stared at him. It was already my room too in the first place so I'm not going to fall to my knees and thank him and the holy gods for letting me stay in this stupid room.

"Thanks." I muttered tonelessly, then started to make my way to my own bed, which he had made up and even put out my teddy bears I had told mum NOT to pack.

"Wait!" he ushered me back, not making any contact whatsoever with me. He held up the chalk and winked. Definitely split personality disorder, he's grinning now. "What?!" I demanded irritably. He got to his knees and drew a line with the chalk, splitting our sides apart. Then he got to his feet and smiled at me.

"Don't step over the line and I'm sure we'll become great-" he pulled a face. "Not friends…" he shrugged. "Roommates. Yeah!" that dimpled smile appeared on his lips again and I couldn't tell if I found it hot or really annoying.

"Brilliant." I said, my tone still emotionless. Now can you get back to your side or whatever? I'm really tired." I sighed at him.

He nodded and went to sit on his bed. I walked over to my own bed to find my suitcase opened and half of the stuff already in the wardrobe and on my bedside table. There were posters I could put up on the blank walls though.

I grabbed a MUSE poster from my suitcase, similar to one of Dan's, climbed onto my bed, and stuck it down on the wall firmly. Then I lay down with my iPod and closed my eyes, hoping what I had seen in the bathroom, and heard in the cellar, was just my imagination.

Because if it is my imagination, I really am messed up like everyone else.

After a while of just laying there resting my eyes, there was a click and Dan shut down his laptop. I opened one eye curiously. What's he planning on doing at midnight?

It is midnight right? I glanced at my bedside clock and yes. It was five past midnight. So why the hell is Dan putting his shoes on and throwing a hoodie over his pyjama's?

I watched Dan grab his phone and shove it in his pocket before turning to leave. Before he did, he eyed me. "Stop pretending to be asleep Phil.." he sighed. Then he folded his arms across his chest.

"I'm off out to-" he hesitated. "Meet a girl. Yeah, meet a girl." then he made his way out of the door. "By the way, if you follow me, I will kill you." something in his tone told me he wasn't kidding.

Then he left with a slam of the door so vicious, my MUSE poster slipped off the walls.

Home. Sweet. Fucking. Home.


	6. Chapter 6

Seis~

"So, Why exactly were YOU, Phil Lester," Dan spat my name like I was poison in his mouth. "Why were you sent here?"

Dan Howell, the mysterious fire-starter who had spoken to thin air in the forest with his wild look and evil glinting eyes, had been bugging me for a while. Well, his voice. His voice had been repeating that same thing repeatedly in my head since he left me to "Go out with a girl" last night. Yeah right. He'd gone back into the forest. But for what?!

In a way he was right. Why exactly was I at this school? Easy. I was at this boarding house because I couldn't look after myself and needed to improve my education right? So why do I feel like I'm trying to reassure myself?

Back in the basement, the day I had heard that voice. The american voice who nobody else could hear. The one which started all of this. All of this..madness.

Because the voice in the basement and the girl drowning in the bath, the vision I had of her being ducked under dirty blood tinged water…they must be new right? I haven't seen anything like this before? No, definitely not.

So why was I sent here? Why Redtail Boarding specifically?

Dan had a point. And of course I knew. I was sent here because my mum couldn't look after me since she was always at work, and dad is rarely at home. But something, some stupid thought buried deep into my mind inhabiting my roommates voice was telling me something different. Does this mean I'm no better than Dan, or PJ and Chris, Bethan and Zoey?

I'm not crazy like them. I can't be. I don't hear voices and see girls dying! somewhere in my mind Dan's voice was back. "Chris was sent here because he tried to kill himself." he had said, his eyes burning into mine. Something else I can't explain. Dan being able to burn me with nothing to actually psysically burn me with.

"He saw death. DEATH everywhere!" Dan's voice screamed. I thought about the girl- Elizabeth? Is that what the women had called her? Yes. The women, her killer had called her a Subject.

Like a lab rat? Does that mean I see 'Death' too like Chris?

It still scared me, terrified me, woke me up sweating, even thinking about actually being able to see somebody's death.

And not being able to stop it, because…because you can't.

Because your feet are glued to the floor, and you're not sure if your mind is playing tricks on you. It's agonising being able to see something so morbid and terrifying which nobody else can see. Because if you DID freak out, you'd be surely sent to the loony bin. Is that Redtail Boarding?

No. It can't be. I willingly walked in here! I stood in the reception on my own and signed in myself!

So many questions. But just this one damn question is bugging me.

Why was I really sent here?

"Right, Hello and welcome to my presentation, as you know my name is Phil Lester, I am sixteen years old and I'm going to talk about-"

"Nooo," I mumbled, sighing in exasperation. I rubbed my temples with a growl. "Why do I keep getting this wrong?" I muttered to myself, fiddling with my pen and scribbling lopsided doodles on the lined paper.

"Hey, Phil!' a familiar voice said, kicking my chair. "Nervous mate?"

Matty's voice shouted over the excited chatter of my english class cutting through my concentration, and I turned in my chair to face him. "Not really.." I shrugged. "I was up all night practising it." I held up a sheet of paper with my presentation on it. Part of our final grade for GCSE english was to present something to the class.

One of my friends, Matty Jason was as usual ignoring anything to do with actual work, instead having his earphones plugged in, his long-ish curly black hair hiding the wires which were very obvious dangling down his school t-shirt.

Matty rolled his eyes at me. "You're such a swot Phil!" he smirked and I shot him a look. "Well, maybe if you pay more attention to Miss Mathers instead of Lara Peter's.." I glanced at her across the class. She was the most popular girl in Year 10. And I had no chance with her. Though I guess it was fun to stare at her.

Matty leaned further over in his chair and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from reciting that stupid story all teachers tell their students about the kid who swung too far back on their chair and fell off, somehow dying morbidly.

Was it biting through their lip or breaking their neck?

I don't remember the details, but it's not exactly what a bunch of hormonal sixteen year olds want to hear on a hot July afternoon.

"Lara is so fit though!" Matty drawled in his northern accent. Well, it's Manchester. Everyone has a northern accent, but Matty was too northern. He said things like, "Kecks" meaning trousers.

I nodded in agreement. Yes, she was. But so was Benjamin Oakley sat three seats away. I hadn't told Matty or any of my other friends about my…confusing sexuality.

Yeah, I like girls. But I kinda like guys too? If Matty found out I was bisexual I would probably be labled "Gaylord" because my classmates were so judgemental.

"Ask her out mate!" Matty said excitedly. "It'll be well cool if you fucked her! you'll have lost your V to THAT!" he grinned at me and I cringed. Matty is also incredibly crude. Sometimes I think he's actually some kind of messed up reincarnation of Jay off 'The Inbetweeners.' he's the kind of guy who goes after the 'Fit' girls.

And then it's normally the girls boyfriends who beat him up.

"I'm alright," I muttered, poking Matty in the side. "But you should ask her?" I didn't know a lot of things, but what I did know was that Lara would rather go out with a dead parrot than my friend. It had spread round the school that he had tried to flirt with our year 7 drama teacher, Mrs Piper, who actually was quite attractive. But trying to chat up a girl nearly double his age was pretty weird, so most girls stayed clear of him.

"Ha!" Matty picked up his pencil and twiddled it between his thumb and finger thoughtfully. "As if she'll say yes!" he scoffed, but his green eyes were shining.

"Phil Lester!" Miss Mathers stood up from her desk and folded her arms across her chest. She was the kind of teacher who shouted at you for dropping your pen on the floor. Karen Mathers, my year ten english teacher was tall with brown hair pulled back into a strict bun wearing a white blouse and tight black skirt. I guess she was 'Fit' in Matty's terms, but she definitely didn't attract me.

"Yes Miss?" I span back round in my chair to face the teacher, a spark of nausea hitting me in the gut and setting off butterflies spreading around my stomach.

Those pesky little butterflies, always striking when I have to present something or when I like someone. My gut had been doing strange flips all day. Had I eaten something bad or was it nerves?

"We're going to start with you today, Mr. Lester," Miss Mathers eyed the other students with narrowed eyes. "Since you're the only one who looks ready." she smiled at my desk where my memory stick and presentation lay infront of me. "Oh come on miss! can't I go first?" Matty shouted and the class all laughed.

The teacher rolled her eyes and leant against her desk. "Matthew, as much as I'd love to hear your presentation about-?" she frowned. "What's it about again?"

I turned to see his smug smirk. "Weed, miss!" he said proudly. The class erupted into laughter again. Kids grinning at Matt because he was the class clown.

Miss Mathers sighed. "Matthew, what did I say about feasable subjects?" he shrugged. "It is a feasable subject! Weed should be legalised, miss!" he waved his presentation at her which was six lines of messy handwriting in the blue biro I had lent him.

Miss Mathers cleared her throat. "Matthew, that's a C2. Get out of my classroom." she pointed at the door and Matthew got up still grinning. "Good luck mate," he patted me on my back and I rolled his eyes at him. A "C2" means that Matty has already been giving a "C1" which is a verbal warning, and now he was on call. Which means he is in shit again. He's going to get put on report again. Third time this year.

"Matthew, I won't tell you again!" the teacher pratically screached.

"I'm going! I was wishing Phil good luck, GOD!" Matthew muttered a curse under his breath and grabbed his bag and presentation, then strolled down the row of desks and out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.

Once Matty was gone, the teacher focused on me again. "Phil? are you ready to start?" she asked.

"Um..yep." I picked up my presentation and stood up on wobbly legs, the butterflies were overwhelming now. I made my way to the front of class and turned to face the twenty students all staring at me. I was a reasonably popular guy so I wasn't really bothered about the others laughing at me. It was just the principle of standing there for nearly three minutes and talking non-stop which was daunting.

I held my paper in shaky hands and opened my mouth, remembering to take deep breaths. "Hello, my name is Phil Lester, I am sixteen years old and I'm going to talk to you about the possibility of life on other planets."

~~~~~  
"Hey mate, are you coming out tonight? Tristin and Connor are having a party since their parents are out." Matty came to sit by me at lunch. He was on report again. Which he was proud of for some strange reason. I looked up from my lunch of oreo's and a rustler burger which I had packed myself since mum was never at home and shrugged. "Probably not.." I muttered. "My mum wants me to go and see her at work."

Matty bit into his burger from the canteen. "Really?" he said through a mouthfull of mushy burger. "Where does your mum even work?"

I snorted. "All I know is that it's a hospital." I muttered, with an edge to my tone. Yeah, the hospital she had abandoned me for since I was a freaking baby.

"Have you ever been in?" Matty asked, dipping a chip in the dollop of ketchup he had squeezed all over his plate.

I frowned, cocking my head. "No I actually haven't?" I sighed. It was pretty weird that I haven't ever set foot in my mother's work.

"Just come to the party then?" Matty leaned back in his chair. "Your mum's never home anyway, so just make an excuse?"

I considered that. I could say I have loads of homework I guess?

I looked around the canteen packed with red and blue clad kids. The school uniform is a blue blazer with a red stripy tie. I don't bother with a blazer since it's mid July. Instead I wear a white shirt with my year 10 tie loose around my collar customised with stickers.

Tristin Mcvey and Connor Thorpe were sitting with Lara Peter's and her friends Emily Johnson. They were laughing about something and Tristin had his arm around Emily's shoulder. She in turn kept playing with his brown locks and giggling flirtatiously. Well there's the new couple everyone's going to be talking about in class next.

Tristin and Connor were the most popular guys in our year. Of course they were. They were, in my opinion, pretty hot. There was Tristin with his curly brown hair and chestnut coloured eyes. Not that I've been looking at them.

Nope. I have definitely not been staring at him long enough to learn the colour of his eyes.

Tristin was the kind of guy who was top in everything and somehow still managed to look cool. He wore football jersey's like some kind of american jock wannabe with tight jeans and converse. He wasn't a dick like some guys, he was alright, but pretty intimidating to kids who weren't popular or not good looking girls. Or guys? no stop it Phil, he's not gay. God dammit!

Connor had dirty blonde short hair he usually spiked up with hair gel. He was less stuck up than Tristin, more of a nice guy. Plus he was more casual with his clothes. Connor was more likely to wear a t-shirt covered in lizards and shorts in the Summer. In colder seasons he normally wore woolly jumpers and jeans. He wasn't as smart as Tristin and was prone to asking ridiculous questions. Like once he asked our history teacher who Hitler's last name was. I worry about his GCSE results next year.

"Phil?" Matty waved a hand infront of my face. "Mate?"

I blinked and drew my gaze from Connor and Tristin back to my best friend. "Hmm, yeah?"

"You alright, mate? you've gone kinda pale?" Matty looked worried. Well, as worried as Matty Jason could look. I snapped myself out of the daze and shrugged. "I dunno, I've got a bit of headache that's all." I rubbed my temples and winced when a dull pain throbbed across my forehead.

"Go to the nurse?" Matty stood up and grabbed his bag, his eyes looking straight past me. I followed his gaze to find Lara Peter's walking out with Tristin and Connor. "Hey, Tris!" he yelled over. Tristin turned and waved. "Matty! Still coming to the party?"

"Yep!" Matty ran over to him and I caught Lara Peter's rolling her eyes at Matty, her friend Emily giggling. "In a bit Phil!" Matty shouted over his shoulder to me.

"M'kay." I mumbled, turning back round, avoiding Tristin's gaze. What if he saw me staring at him?

The bell rang to my relief and the canteen quickly emptied of kids, everyone finishing their food and grabbing their bags. I stood up and rushed out, fishing in my pocket for my iPod. My head is banging and I can't be doing with the yells and squeals of excited year sevens running down the hallway, their gigantic rucksacks bouncing on their backs.

I found my phone at the bottom of my bag and screwed my earphones in, letting Mumford and Son's sooth my headache and made my way, taking my time, to my next lesson which was Maths.

I can't be bothered with maths. Can't I just go to the nurse?

The corridors were empty now, as everyone were in classes. I made my way down them, swaying slightly to my iPod and wondering if Tristin Mcvey was actually gay.

He can't be, he has Lara! I groaned inwardly and cursed my stupid teenage hormones. Why can't I be normal and be attracted to girls? I sighed and started to jog up E Block stairs to the maths department. I'm already five minutes late, but Mr Jason doesn't really care. He just sits there and stares at his laptop, letting the class do what they want. If I want a decent maths grade, I might have to ask to switch classes-

"S'cuse me!" someone- a girl, squeaked as she ran into me making me nearly topple downstairs. "Hey!" I shouted. "Watch where you're going!" I don't normally snap at people but the brewing pain in my head had worsened and I could barely put one foot infront of the other.

"Sorry!" The girl shouted over her shoulder. She must be a first year, she only looks about twelve. The girl slammed her hand over her mouth and her shoes squeaked on the floor when she suddenly bent over and threw up all over the corridor. I grimaced and felt my stomach flip again. "Are you okay?" I yelled down the stairs, a twinge of guilt hitting me in the gut for yelling at her for slamming into me. "Hey, do you need help?"

"No! I'm fine, leave me alone!" the girl groaned. She was sobbing into her hands and her cheeks were bright red in embarassment. I sighed and jogged back down, walking over to her warily. "Sorry I yelled at you," I offered her my hand. "I've just got a headache."

She groaned and took it, letting me help her to her feet. The girl was small with red hair in a pony tail and freckles. "Thanks," she smiled weakly at me. Then she eyed the puddle of vomit and frowned. "I didn't mean to do it.." she mumbled. "My boyfriend made me do it!" she insisted.

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Wait, what did he make you do?" I asked her softly.

She looked down at the floor and shuffled her feet. "Tod…he was doing it behind the sports hall with his friends.." she murmured. Then she lifted her head and looked at me. "I- I didn't want to look uncool infront of his friends and now-" she stifled a sob and swiped her eyes. "Now everythings spinning and I can't go to class like this!" she whimpered. I frowned at her. Yes, she was right. Her eyes were dialated as hell. "Just..go to the nurse and explain the situation to her, she'll understand." I said.

Part of me was screaming, "YOU'RE TWELVE, WHY ARE YOU SMOKING CANNABIS?!" but the gentle part of me, the one in control, smiled reassuringly. "It was just a mistake-" I frowned. "What's your name?"

"Maisy," the girl sniffed. She wiped her nose with her blazer sleeve and took a deep breath taking a step forward and stumbled. I steadied her before she tipped over. "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked. "I can take you to the nurses office?"

Maisy shook her head. "No, I'm okay. Thanks." With a small smile she turned away from me and waddled off down the corridor, her sniffs echoing all the way untill I could no longer hear them.

When Maisy had gone I started to go back upstairs, but a sudden yell startled me. It came from above me and I looked up and my stomach jumped into my throat.

There was a guy balanced dangerously ontop of the railings on the top floor. The white railings were flimsy and anyone could fall through them. But this guy? he was standing purposely on them.

I couldn't see him properly but I could make out a different blazer on him, with the same school crest on mine. It was bright red and his tie was black and white, underneath his collar. The guy looked about my age with brown hair and that's all I could make out. "I'LL DO IT!" he screamed, lunging forward, his hands still gripping the railings for balance.

It took me a few seconds for me to comprehend what he was going to do. "N-no- wait!" I yelled up. "Don't do it, I'll- I'll get help!"

"Help!" I yelled. "He's- he's going to jump!" Shaking like mad, I didn't dare move unless he did jump. I'm the only one who can coax him into not jumping.

"HELP!" I screamed. "Please! he- he's going to jump!"

The boy didn't seem to notice me or care. He kept screaming threats and his voice sliced through my ears. "I can't do it anymore!" he cried. Then he started to sob, his grip on the railing slowly slipping.

"No!" I tried to scream, but my mouth couldn't form the words.

"Mr Lester?" I turned to see my PE teacher staring at me. "Young man! what on earth are you doing?" Mr Young squinted at me, his frown deepening when I pointed upwards. "He's going to jump sir! s-stop him!" I stuttered.

"I'm sorry, what?" Mr Young looked at me as if I was insane. What's he doing? the boys going to jump! Why doesn't he care?!

"The-the b-boy!" I tried to say, but when I looked up and saw the boys grip on the railings slip and his body slump forward, a scream erupted from my lips and I stumbled backwards unable to tear my eyes away as the boy dropped at least sixty feet.

"No-n-no!" I screamed at Mr Young as he stared at me- ME! He was bothered what I was doing when a student has just jumped off the top floor balcony?!

"Stop staring at me! The- the boy has j-j-j-!" I grabbed him suddenly and shook him before I knew what I was doing. "You basterd! You- c-could have caught him!" I screached, unable to speak properly. All I could do was scream. "Phil Lester!" Mr Young ragged me off him and grabbed me, wrapping his arms round my waist. "Phil! Hey- Calm down!"

"Hello? I have a hysterical student!' he yelled into his walkie talkie. "Lester." he said calmly. "Yes, I need an ambulance please!" Mr Young kept hold of me while I screamed and struggled. "The- the boy!" I stammered desperately. I managed to twist out of my PE teachers grip and stumbled towards the staircase. "I n-n-need to see him!" I cried, running downstairs to the bottom level. "Phil!" Mr Young ran after me. "Mr Lester! Stop!" I took the stairs two at a time, leaping down them.

I made it down to the last floor and scanned the ground, still sobbing. There was no body. Where was it?! It must have landed here! I fell to my knees and started to search for him. He must be here. I saw him fall!

"Phil." Mr Young appeared with back up. There were teachers and some students all standing a few meters away from me warily.

"The boy!" I said clearly, managing to speak. I faced them. My history teacher, Mr Young and the school nurse. Maisy was there too. Staring at me, her expression a mix of terror and confusion.

"The- the boy!' I choked. "He- he must have landed here!" I gabbled desperately.

"Phil." The school nurse stepped forwards slowly. "Phil, love. Calm down. There is no boy."

What?! what's she talking about?

"I- I saw h-h-him!" I dropped to my knees again and began to search but a familar yell made me jump to my feet. All the teachers, staring at me as if they hadn't heard it. "I'LL DO IT!" the same voice screamed and I looked up again to see…him. The boy with the brown hair and wild eyes.

He was in exactly the same position. Standing on the railings with his fingers wrapped around them, his feet close to the edge…

"I can't do it anymore!" he cried, his grip loosening. Then he started to sob. His sobs haunted me. I couldn't speak. All I could do was stare at the boy while the school nurse walked over calmly and injected something into my arm. What is that? it feels weird.

"The-the- NO!" another screach escaped my lips when once again, the boy just…slumped forwards, lifeless. As if he was already dead.

I felt the nurse lie me down but could only concentrate on the boys body dropping sixty feet, and once again I was helpless to save him. "He-he's-" I tried to speak, but my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool.

Where's the boy gone? I try to blink but my eyes feel heavy and a feeling of ice is prickling over my skin. "I'LL DO IT!" I forced my eyes open to see the boy- how can this be happening again?!

He was on the top floor once again. Balanced on the railings.

How can that be….no, don't think Phil. Just..sleep. Yes, that's what I should do. I should just…sleep.

I can't open my eyes, but I can still hear the voices of my teachers. Murmurs of gathering students.

"Phil Lester? he's gone mad! he attacked Mr Young yelling about a boy…" someone said quietly.

"Freak." another one spat, disgusted. "What was he screaming about? a boy?"

Then a new voice. One with authority and a soft tone. "Phil? I'm going to make you feel better okay? you're going to feel a little prick and then just relax, okay?"

"Noooo," I mumbled thickly. My lips felt ten sizes too fat and my voice sounded slurred. "The boy- please..the boy!" I tried to get up with the last of my strength but strong hands held me down firmly.

"Phil, honey. Litsen to me. There was no boy, okay? you were just imagining him." the voice said.

I wasn't! he was real, I saw him!

Suddenly something was stuck into my arm. A needle. It felt alien and sharp slicing into my skin and I let out a whimper, letting my head fall back into someones arms. Then a strange feeling overwhelmed me and I had to fight to stay concious. Didn't the school nurse already inject me?

The murmurs and voices all mixed into one tinny white noise and then- nothing. Everything was silent. I was left, clinging onto conciousness, stray thoughts keeping my awake. What were my parents going to think? Matty and Tristin and Connor? Why won't anyone believe me about the boy?

He was real. I saw him fall. I saw him fall twice! the boy was real.

So why were people acting like he wasn't?

That last thought stayed on my mind as slowly but surely my brain began to shut down and sleep. And then before I knew it there was nothing.

~~  
I woke up screaming.

I don't know what I was screaming. Muddled nonsense. Tears were streaming down my face and my throat felt thick. I was clutching my duvet and had to sit there taking deep breaths to stop myself from hyperventilating.

After calming myself down, I got my bearings and looked around mine and Dan's room. It was dark except from the torch Dan was shining across the room. I glanced at the clock on my bedside. 4:35am, it read. I groaned and collapsed back into my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to catch my breath. I remember.

I remember why I was sent here. How the hell had I forgot?!

I remember waking up in hospital with my mother beside me. I'd been doped up on god knows what drugs so I had no idea what was going on. But I had remembered what mum had said.

"We're sending you to a special school for a bit." she had said calmly, stroking my forehead. "It'll be alright love. Just untill you're better. There are kids like you."

There are kids like you. Her words echoed in my mind and I recalled Dan's words. "I thought you didn't belong here because you're normal..turns out you're as fucked up in the head as everyone else!"

The boy. Who had jumped off the top floor. Was he real? Like was the drowning girl in the bathroom real? or the american guy in the basement. Are they just all part of my fucked up head?

What about the lies. The fake reasons why I was sent here. Did I make them up myself or were they planted in my mind?

I snuggled back down, burying myself in the comfort of my duvet.

Then Dan sighed. "Phil?" he asked quietly. I sat up in bed and looked at him. "What?" I muttered, wiping my eyes.

"Uh.." Dan was lying on his side in his bed with a book. His eyes were on me, riddled with worry. I raised my eyebrows. Dan? Worried?

"Are you-?" he hesitated, then rolled his eyes at me. "Had a nightmare Phil Lester?" he teased nastily. Then he scoffed and eyed his book, turning the page. "I thought little kids had nightmares"

I didn't answer. Instead choosing to bury under the duvet again so I could stifle my sobs from him.

I wonder where he went. Did he really meet a girl?

Why do I care? I scoffed and buried my head in the soft pillows cradling my head. After a while Dan swiched his torch off and his matress squeaked when he got properly into bed. We both lay in silence untill I couldn't take it anymore. "Dan?" I asked quietly, still keeping my eyes shut.

I wasn't expecting a reply, but after a few seconds, he mumbled and yawned. "What, Phil Lester?"

"What is Redtail Boarding school?" I paused. "What is it really?"

He groaned in reply. "It's a place for psycho teenagers." he mumbled, then yawned again.

"And you fit in perfectly." he said quietly, an edge to his sleepy tone.

Then he fell asleep, and I found myself fall into a slumber, calmed by Dan's paced breathing combined with mine.

~~  
"Two sausage rolls to take out?"

I blinked and frowned, my eyebrows dipping together. "Huh?"

I was standing in Greggs, at the front of a long queue on a warm Sunday morning. I shouldn't be up this early, but Penny was eager for Dan to take me on a tour around London. Supervised of course. We are 'Psyhos' after all. Miss Jackson was sitting in the car down the road. I'm hoping to talk to her later about what happened. How had they made me forget in the first place? plus, why did they lie to me telling me it was a boarding house when really it was some kind of young person rehab?

It all made sense. I was sent here because I saw things which weren't there. Dan was here because he set his parents house on fire and PJ was here after stabbing somene in the eye.

Mental patients. That's what we are.

"Two sausage rolls to take out?" the lady held out two brown paper bags and I took them with a polite thanks and handed one to Dan, who was standing as far away from me as possible, his eyes glued to his phone. Dan was in a t-shirt and jeans, his backpack slung over his shoulders. I wore my MUSE top and skinny's.

"That's one sixty, love." the women held her hand out.

"Um, okay..hang on." I scooped a handfull of change out of my pocket and handed her it.

"Cheers!" she said cheerfully tipping the money into the cash register. "Anything else?" I shook my head in reply and walked out, Dan following me, already demolishing his sausage roll.

We walked out of Greggs onto the busy London highstreet and I turned to Dan. "You can go and do whatever you want," I shrugged. "I'm just gonna go and sit on that bench and think." I pointed to a wooden bench surrounded by pidgeons. He didn't say anything.

"Right, okay.." I walked over to the bench and sat down, unwrapping my sausage roll and thinking about having to speak to my mum tomorrow. To my surprise, Dan joined me and sat there in silence.

I can't think when he's sat there, probably trying to annoy me.

"Dan?" I didn't look at him, instead deciding to stare at the bright blue, cloudless sky. "Um, I said you can go if you want?"

"Mphhh," he mumbled through a mouthfull of sausage roll. He had pastry flakes all over his face and I had to resist the temptation to reach over and swipe them off.

Dan didn't budge and I gave up trying to get rid of him. When he finished eating, he screwed up the greasy brown paper bag and chucked it in the bin next to him.

We sat in a peacefull silence, watching the world go by infront of us. Dan pulled his legs up onto the bench and crossed them, leaning back letting his fringe fall in his face. I snuck a glance at him the second he looked over at me and we both looked away quickly.

"So-?" I broke the awkward silence between us and his gaze went from the old man handing out Fab's and 99's to a crowd of children, to me. "What?" he grunted. "God, Phil Lester. Spit it out!" he rolled his eyes smirking.

Why does he have to be such a dick?! I gritted my teeth and turned away from him. "Never mind.." I muttered, irritated.

"No, you were going to say something?" his tone softened and he sighed. "Just tell me.." he muttered. "I'm listening, Phil."

I took a breath and fiddled with clasped hands in my lap. "Is it true you burnt your parents house down?' I suddenly asked. Like word vomit. Oh god. This is our conversation last night all over again.

I saw him stiffen and he brushed his fringe out of his eyes. "How did you know that?" he asked tonelessly. Oh, so it was true then.

Before I could answer he chuckled darkly and looked up at me, his brown eyes piercing and angry. His glare looked so sinister I had to look away. "No, wait!" he laughed, straightening up with a giggle. It was as happy as he was going to get. I shivered when he let out another loud laugh, a few passers by glancing at him.

"They told you didn't they?" he smacked his forehead, giggling again. "Bethan and Charlie? Finn Jack and Caspar?" he grinned, his dimples on show and I couldn't help noticing how much he resembled Tristin minus the curly hair.

"Well, yeah? they did tell me." I found my voice and to my dismay I was stammering again. "I- I didn't believe them at first, but- then- then y-you bu-burnt me."

He stared at me for a few seconds before giggling again. "I didn't burn you, you imagined it."

Like I imagined the boy commiting suicide and the girl drowning in the bath?

"No I didn't." I mumbled. "You burnt me!" I said, my voice becoming slightly more confident.

He poked me in my temple, still giggling. "We're all messed up Phil" he said quietly. "Just embrace your inner psycho!"

Dan was really starting to irritate me. I stood up, grabbing my bag. "I'm going into-" I scanned the shops around the plaza, spotting one of my favourite. "That book shop." I set off walking across the busy path and smiled when I set foot in the book shop. A familiar warm and comforting feeling hit me as I made my way across sections of books labled by colourfull signs. Adult fiction, none fiction, Biography, Graphic novels, Horror- ah! Teen fiction.

The geek part of me is screaming happily that there is a Waterstones here. Well of course there is, it's London! Can I blame ridiculous thoughts on my insanity? Am I even sane?

The Teen section was as comfy and calming as the one back in Rossendale. There were four bookshelves with every book genre I could think of. The New York Best Selling ones were on the top shelf. Books like The 'Twilight' series and Harry Potter, the Divergent series, Mortal Instruments. Books by Stephanie Meyer. You name it. It was there.

"So you like books, huh?"

I turned, startled, to find Dan stood behind me with that stupid smirk on his face with those raised eyebrows. He had followed me again? What was wrong with this guy? Don't answer that Phil.

"Yeah," I folded my arms and tried to glare at him, but the sun was in my eyes so I just looked like I was squinting at him. "So what if I am?" I muttered.

Dan shook his head with a chuckle. "Nothing, actually." he smiled at me and I frowned. A genuine smile? Then he walked past me and over to the fantasy section, skimming over the books with his index finger. To my surprise he pulled out the Game Of Thrones book 3 and sat down cross legged with it in his lap and began to skim through it, a thoughtfull look on his face.

I wasn't surprised he was a reader, since I had seen him reading last night- well 3am this morning. It's just, Dan doesn't look like the kind of guy who reads. He glares at everyone, me the most. How can somone as…dark and soulless as Dan Howell actually like books?

Okay, so I'm steriotyping readers as geeks with glasses with no friends, but I see Dan as the kind of guy who kicks puppies and laughs or worships satan underneath a photo of Mila Kunis.

Maybe I really am insane…

I decided to leave him to his book and go and check out the graphic novels in the other section. He looks pretty peacefull so I guess it's a death-wish to disturb him.

~  
I was torn out of one of many Spider Man comics to a yell. Which, surprise suprise, came from Dan. I quickly shoved the book back on the shelf and made my way back to the seen section where I had left him.

I found him. He was stood, frozen with a lump of black in his hands. I sniffed and caught the whiff of burning. Dan was staring into space, looking terrified. "Why did you burn it?!" he demanded to thin air. I felt a rush of Deja Vu remembering him in the forest.

"I LIKED THAT BOOK!" he suddenly screamed, throwing the lump, which I recognised as the badly burnt Game of Thrones novel he had been reading, at thin air. There was nothing there.

"Dan…" I glanced at the staff working at the till. Somehow they hadn't noticed. I grabbed his arm quickly. "Dan, w-we need to go."

"No!" he pulled away and once again an agonising pain ran down my arm and I let out a squeak, letting go of him. "Shit!" I cried.

"N-no…I didn't mean to-" he stared at me with wide eyes. "Phil, I don't know what's wrong with me!" he hissed desperately.

My arm was stinging and the skin had blistered bright red like last time. "It's- It's fine." I whispered, unable to talk properly. How had he managed to burn that book to cinders? Did he strike a match?!

How the hell did he burn me?! I started shaking violently and started making my way out of the shop. I didn't look back to see if be was following me. I didn't care.

"Phil!" Miss Jackson ran over to me looking worried, her hair flying everywhere. She was still wearing her tracksuit. "What happened? Where's Dan?"

She seemed pretty wary about Dan. Course she is, he's a psycho!

"Here." a voice came from behind me. "I'm- uh..I'm here." Dan's voice was shaking and he had his arms folded tightly across his chest. Is he hiding something?

Matches? A lighter?

"Dan." Miss Jackson frowned at him. "What have you done?"

"Nothing." he mumbled, looking down. Miss Jackson must have done this before because she reached forward and uncrossed his arms. "No! I- I didn't mean to I swear!" he adopted the voice of a child and tried to pull away.

"Oh, Daniel. What have you done?" she murmured.

I stared at Dan's arms, trying to stop myself from crying out, and bit into my bottom lip, tasting blood automatically.

Dan's arms were red raw, blistered and burnt. He had burnt himself. He had given himself first degree burns with nothing but his own hands. How is that possible?

~  
Miss Jackson drove us back to the boarding house keeping a close eye on Dan sitting in the front seat. I sat at the back, nibbling my lip and staring as busy London traffic flew past and then became the familiar leafy pathway leading up to Redtail Boarding house surrounded by drooping trees. I glimpsed the forest which I had been forced to adventure into that first night in and shivered.

Dan was silent the whole way back and kept sneaking looks at me through the rear-view mirror.

When we reached 'Home,' Dan stormed straight upstairs to his room with Miss Jackson following him. "Daniel! Get back here now!"

Following Dan wouldn't be a good idea, so I joined Caspar and Bethan in the lounge. "Phil!' Bethan greeted me, sweeping a cushion out of the way so I could sit down. "Hey mate!" Caspar looked up from his PSP and smiled at me. I in turn sat down, still shaky and greeted them quietly. The lounge resembled my own living room with two sofas, a flat screen TV and a furry rug which lay on bright red carpet.

Bethan and Caspar were watching Peep Show. A programme Tristin was always talking about in form. All I got from the show watching it now, was two guys yelling at each other and having in-depth conversations with themselves in their minds. Oh and occasionally had awkward sex with girls.

Bethan was curled up with a fluffy cushion pressed to chest and had tied her hair into ribbons again. She laughed occasionally at the TV and rewinded back to the funny bit. Caspar sat with his PSP in his lap, every so often pausing in gameplay- and looking at the TV.

I wonder why Caspar's here? Dan didn't mention him being a psycho. I glanced at him and tried to imagine him freaking out and screaming at thin air, but it was hard when he looked so innocent?

But he has to be here for something.

"Jez is attractive.." Bethan muttered, breaking me out of my thoughts. Her eyes glued to the TV screen. She glanced at me. "Don't you think?" she shoved me playfully. I shrugged. "I dunno, I don't really watch it.." to be honest I was more worried about my possible arsonist roommate.

"Jeremy is played by Robert Web," Caspar dropped his PSP onto his lap with a sigh. The sound effects coming from his game made it obvious he had died- again. "Of course he's attractive, Bethan!"

"Wow Caspar, you're really showing your straight side." Bethan giggled and twazzed a cushion at him. He grinned and chucked one back. "Funny!"

While they bashed each-other with cushions I considered grabbing the TV remote and switching over to Cartoon Network for the 'kids' (teen) show, Adventure Time. I watched it every day after school- when I was alone of course. If my friends found out I watched a kids programme I would never hear the end of it. Though why would they care now? Matty will never speak to me again, knowing his best friend went mental and had to be sedated and hospitalized.

I shook away the thought. "Hey, can I watch TV?" Bethan and Caspar were pratically straddling each-other. Bethan tossed me the remote. "Yeah sure, knock yourself out!"

"Thanks." I fiddled with the TV remote, thankfully it was easy to work, and scrolled to the kids channels. 'Adventure time' was there in white letters. On right now. I clicked OK on the remote and the screen flicked onto the the familar crazy background which displayed Jake the dog and Finn the human. Despite being heavily weighed down with questions and my own sanity, I still couldn't keep the smile off my face. It was in a way- comforting.

"What's this?" Bethan crawled off of Caspar after admitting defeat while he shrieked a triumphant battle cry. "VICTORY!" he grinned. "Oh, it's that thing my little cousin watches!" Bethan exclaimed, out of breath while fixing her hair.

"My friend watches this!" Caspar sat up staring at the TV, looking genuinely interested. "I don't get it, what's it about?"

"A dog and guy who eat loads of sweets?" Bethan shrugged. "That's what it looks like.."

"Maybe the sweets are drugged?" Caspar laughed. "That's what makes them high and THAT explains why the programme's so weird!"

"It's a kids programme, you twirp!" Bethan shoved him again.

Caspar rolled his eyes. "You take everything so seriously. I was kidding!"

Bethan grinned and reached out to hit him playfully and he dodged the hit laughing. But then she lost her smile and her eyes darkened. Her hand was still gripping Caspar's shoulder.

I watched, seeing the same blank expression appear on Bethan's, which had been on Dan's back in Town. Blankly staring at nothing.

"Ow! you don't have to grip me-" Caspar swallowed his words and frowned when he noticed Bethan's expression. "Hey, beth?" he stood up and waved his hand infront of her face, clicking his fingers. She was still sat, staring into thin air, her lips twisted into a grimace. "Shit.." Caspar mumbled. I snapped out of it and frowned. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Here we go again.." he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "She's catatonic." he explained, eyeing me. "S'alright, it happens sometimes. She'll be alright in a minute." he reassured softly.

"It happen's sometimes." Caspar's voice repeated in my head.

"Shouldn't we get a teacher?" I stood up, again my legs were wobbly and I had to grit my teeth to stand properly. Caspar shook his head. "Nah, just leave it mate."

I was about to protest when a strangled scream made me jump, reminding me of the girl I had seen being drowned in the bath.

Bethan. I stared as she jumped up, eyes wide and terrified, her mouth agape. "Dan!" she squeaked, grabbing Caspar and shaking him. "Where is he?!"

A cold shiver ran down my spine and I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. He was in his room- right?

"Hey, calm down!' Caspar grabbed her face gently. "Bethan. Bethan! Look at me! Everything's okay, just calm down okay?"

She was shaking violently, her cheeks ashen. Stumbling and stuttering over her sentences. "N- no!" she screamed. "Dan! They're- they're going to-" she swallowed and swiped at her damp cheeks. "They- he- there were-" she clutched Caspar and he drew circles on her back with his finger calmly. "Bethan…who's they?"

She reminded me of myself back at school.

"They're going to…him!" she said through sobs. "Where is he?!" she wailed, wrenching herself away from Caspar and running out of the lounge. Her footsteps pounding on the stairs as she thundered up them still sobbing.

Caspar ran after her. "Bethan! Calm down! Bethan, he's fine!"

I had no choice but to follow him. I ran upstairs, a million thoughts running through my head. Bethan's screams. What was she saying? Dan was what?

She was acting as if his life was on the line. I remembered the burns on his arms and a rush of fear mixed with adrenaline pushed me up the last staircase.

I ran into mine and Dan's room to find Bethan sobbing and yelling gibberish at Dan, who was sat on his bed with his laptop on his knee looking really confused.

I could have laughed in relief.

Relief?! No, Phil! Why do you care?!

Caspar was stood next to Bethan, also yelling at Dan. Though instead of gibberish, he was apologising. "Sorry Dan, she's freaking out again." while Bethan screamed, "I saw it! They're- they're going to-"

Dan cocked his head frowning. "First of all, you didn't knock, second-" he eyed both of them. "What the FUCK are you talking about?!"

"Bethan's having one of her annual freak out's." Caspar explained. "Like the one with Anthony?" he rolled his ueyes.

"What's going on?" a familar voice said from the doorway. I turned to see Miss Jackson stood there.

The second Bethan caught Miss Jackson's eye, she stumbled backwards and started hyperventilating. "No! L-leave me alone!" she pointed to Dan, who stil looked confused. "Leave him alone!" she shrieked. Miss Jackson stepped forward calmly. "Bethan, I can assure you I have no intention of hurting Mr Howell."

"No!" Bethan stamped her foot, still crying, and at the same moment something splattered all over the walls. Hairgel. Dripping off the walls and the closet we shared. Bethan shrunk back into the corner. "I- I didn't- there was no hairgel on the-" Miss Jackson was making her way to Bethan, slipping something from her pocket. A syringe. "Give her some space." the teacher knelt next to the quivering girl and slid the needle into her arm. "I said get out!" Miss Jackson hissed sternly.

I scampered out of the room, followed by Dan. Caspar stayed glued to the spot. "What's going to happen to her?" he demanded.

"We're going to send her home. Give her time to rest." The teacher answered flatly. "She's very ill, Caspar."

"So am I!" he hissed. I stayed on the corridor awkwardly while Dan pressed his ear to the door even when it was open. "She didn't mean to get hair gel everywhere!" his voice was turning into a sob.

"Caspar. I'll make sure to let Penny allow you to call her when she's feeling better. Untill then, can you please leave the room?"

"Fine!" he left the room, storming out, shoving past me and Dan before breaking into a jog down the corridor and then downstairs, making sure to slam every door he went through violently behind him.

So there was a different side to Caspar.

While Dan went back into our room and moaned about hair gel all over the wall's, before sitting back on his bed with his laptop like nothing had happened, I sat on my own bed and tried not to piece things together in my head.

All these little things I had learnt. Like the strange drink. Only me, Dan and Bethan avoided it. I was seeing girls drowning, Dan was burning things (Which I still don't undertand the physics of) and Bethan was freaking out about Dan being in mortal danger.

Only an idiot would pass that off as a coincidence. What if it was? what if I'm being really paranoid?

What about school? I start tomorrow and I'm not even sure if it even exists. What if it was some kind of cover up? to keep me learning the truth, which that I'm stuck in a school for psycho kids.

Stop it Phil. Stop over-thinking things. You're sick. I told myself.

If I was so 'Sick' why had nobody mentioned it? why was there a cover-up in the first place?

~~~~  
I let out a sigh of relief escape my lips as warm water sprayed into my face from the shower nozzle and I stood, relishing in the warmth for a few seconds. Then I blindly reached for the blueberry scented shampoo and squeezed it all of my hair, lathering it all over my hair. This is the one place where I can relax and not think up crazy theories and let paranoia control my thoughts. I can just stand here and listen to the calming sound of the shower.

The shower itself wasn't anything special. It was a simple, modern shower. No fancy tweaks like ours at home. I scrubbed my body with the sponge and let the warm water rinse off left over bubbles.

"Hey there, little necro." a girl murmured in my ear and I let out a shriek, nearly falling over. I blindly grabbed a towel and wiped my face and blinked away condensation, trying to see through the steam. "Hello?!"

"Helloooo?" there it was again. I turned, shaking, to see a girl standing outside the shower. She had long curly blonde hair and was wearing a long white shirt covered in dark red stains. I swallowed and prayed it wasn't what I think it was.

"Hey." she smiled sweetly. There was something familiar about her but my brain was too busy screaming at me that she was a hallucination I couldn't think straight. I stared at her, unable to speak. She's not real. She's just a figment of my imagination.

"I'm Elizabeth." she smiled sadly. "But you can call me Lizzie."

I'm tempted to continue now :D It's a stupid place to stop it haha and idk I'm proud of this chapter for some reason…

Like/reblog for more! :)

Dedicated to Livithezebra, acaeria and shattered5423 AKA Kenzie! :) (And everyone who's reading!) ^_^ have a ~~~~:P

Also, this phanfic is based off of one of my favourite book trilogy's ^_^


	7. Chapter 7

Seis~

"So, Why exactly were YOU, Phil Lester," Dan spat my name like I was poison in his mouth. "Why were you sent here?"

Dan Howell, the mysterious fire-starter who had spoken to thin air in the forest with his wild look and evil glinting eyes, had been bugging me for a while. Well, his voice. His voice had been repeating that same thing repeatedly in my head since he left me to "Go out with a girl" last night. Yeah right. He'd gone back into the forest. But for what?!

In a way he was right. Why exactly was I at this school? Easy. I was at this boarding house because I couldn't look after myself and needed to improve my education right? So why do I feel like I'm trying to reassure myself?

Back in the basement, the day I had heard that voice. The american voice who nobody else could hear. The one which started all of this. All of this..madness.

Because the voice in the basement and the girl drowning in the bath, the vision I had of her being ducked under dirty blood tinged water…they must be new right? I haven't seen anything like this before? No, definitely not.

So why was I sent here? Why Redtail Boarding specifically?

Dan had a point. And of course I knew. I was sent here because my mum couldn't look after me since she was always at work, and dad is rarely at home. But something, some stupid thought buried deep into my mind inhabiting my roommates voice was telling me something different. Does this mean I'm no better than Dan, or PJ and Chris, Bethan and Zoey?

I'm not crazy like them. I can't be. I don't hear voices and see girls dying! somewhere in my mind Dan's voice was back. "Chris was sent here because he tried to kill himself." he had said, his eyes burning into mine. Something else I can't explain. Dan being able to burn me with nothing to actually psysically burn me with.

"He saw death. DEATH everywhere!" Dan's voice screamed. I thought about the girl- Elizabeth? Is that what the women had called her? Yes. The women, her killer had called her a Subject.

Like a lab rat? Does that mean I see 'Death' too like Chris?

It still scared me, terrified me, woke me up sweating, even thinking about actually being able to see somebody's death.

And not being able to stop it, because…because you can't.

Because your feet are glued to the floor, and you're not sure if your mind is playing tricks on you. It's agonising being able to see something so morbid and terrifying which nobody else can see. Because if you DID freak out, you'd be surely sent to the loony bin. Is that Redtail Boarding?

No. It can't be. I willingly walked in here! I stood in the reception on my own and signed in myself!

So many questions. But just this one damn question is bugging me.

Why was I really sent here?

"Right, Hello and welcome to my presentation, as you know my name is Phil Lester, I am sixteen years old and I'm going to talk about-"

"Nooo," I mumbled, sighing in exasperation. I rubbed my temples with a growl. "Why do I keep getting this wrong?" I muttered to myself, fiddling with my pen and scribbling lopsided doodles on the lined paper.

"Hey, Phil!' a familiar voice said, kicking my chair. "Nervous mate?"

Matty's voice shouted over the excited chatter of my english class cutting through my concentration, and I turned in my chair to face him. "Not really.." I shrugged. "I was up all night practising it." I held up a sheet of paper with my presentation on it. Part of our final grade for GCSE english was to present something to the class.

One of my friends, Matty Jason was as usual ignoring anything to do with actual work, instead having his earphones plugged in, his long-ish curly black hair hiding the wires which were very obvious dangling down his school t-shirt.

Matty rolled his eyes at me. "You're such a swot Phil!" he smirked and I shot him a look. "Well, maybe if you pay more attention to Miss Mathers instead of Lara Peter's.." I glanced at her across the class. She was the most popular girl in Year 10. And I had no chance with her. Though I guess it was fun to stare at her.

Matty leaned further over in his chair and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from reciting that stupid story all teachers tell their students about the kid who swung too far back on their chair and fell off, somehow dying morbidly.

Was it biting through their lip or breaking their neck?

I don't remember the details, but it's not exactly what a bunch of hormonal sixteen year olds want to hear on a hot July afternoon.

"Lara is so fit though!" Matty drawled in his northern accent. Well, it's Manchester. Everyone has a northern accent, but Matty was too northern. He said things like, "Kecks" meaning trousers.

I nodded in agreement. Yes, she was. But so was Benjamin Oakley sat three seats away. I hadn't told Matty or any of my other friends about my…confusing sexuality.

Yeah, I like girls. But I kinda like guys too? If Matty found out I was bisexual I would probably be labled "Gaylord" because my classmates were so judgemental.

"Ask her out mate!" Matty said excitedly. "It'll be well cool if you fucked her! you'll have lost your V to THAT!" he grinned at me and I cringed. Matty is also incredibly crude. Sometimes I think he's actually some kind of messed up reincarnation of Jay off 'The Inbetweeners.' he's the kind of guy who goes after the 'Fit' girls.

And then it's normally the girls boyfriends who beat him up.

"I'm alright," I muttered, poking Matty in the side. "But you should ask her?" I didn't know a lot of things, but what I did know was that Lara would rather go out with a dead parrot than my friend. It had spread round the school that he had tried to flirt with our year 7 drama teacher, Mrs Piper, who actually was quite attractive. But trying to chat up a girl nearly double his age was pretty weird, so most girls stayed clear of him.

"Ha!" Matty picked up his pencil and twiddled it between his thumb and finger thoughtfully. "As if she'll say yes!" he scoffed, but his green eyes were shining.

"Phil Lester!" Miss Mathers stood up from her desk and folded her arms across her chest. She was the kind of teacher who shouted at you for dropping your pen on the floor. Karen Mathers, my year ten english teacher was tall with brown hair pulled back into a strict bun wearing a white blouse and tight black skirt. I guess she was 'Fit' in Matty's terms, but she definitely didn't attract me.

"Yes Miss?" I span back round in my chair to face the teacher, a spark of nausea hitting me in the gut and setting off butterflies spreading around my stomach.

Those pesky little butterflies, always striking when I have to present something or when I like someone. My gut had been doing strange flips all day. Had I eaten something bad or was it nerves?

"We're going to start with you today, Mr. Lester," Miss Mathers eyed the other students with narrowed eyes. "Since you're the only one who looks ready." she smiled at my desk where my memory stick and presentation lay infront of me. "Oh come on miss! can't I go first?" Matty shouted and the class all laughed.

The teacher rolled her eyes and leant against her desk. "Matthew, as much as I'd love to hear your presentation about-?" she frowned. "What's it about again?"

I turned to see his smug smirk. "Weed, miss!" he said proudly. The class erupted into laughter again. Kids grinning at Matt because he was the class clown.

Miss Mathers sighed. "Matthew, what did I say about feasable subjects?" he shrugged. "It is a feasable subject! Weed should be legalised, miss!" he waved his presentation at her which was six lines of messy handwriting in the blue biro I had lent him.

Miss Mathers cleared her throat. "Matthew, that's a C2. Get out of my classroom." she pointed at the door and Matthew got up still grinning. "Good luck mate," he patted me on my back and I rolled his eyes at him. A "C2" means that Matty has already been giving a "C1" which is a verbal warning, and now he was on call. Which means he is in shit again. He's going to get put on report again. Third time this year.

"Matthew, I won't tell you again!" the teacher pratically screached.

"I'm going! I was wishing Phil good luck, GOD!" Matthew muttered a curse under his breath and grabbed his bag and presentation, then strolled down the row of desks and out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.

Once Matty was gone, the teacher focused on me again. "Phil? are you ready to start?" she asked.

"Um..yep." I picked up my presentation and stood up on wobbly legs, the butterflies were overwhelming now. I made my way to the front of class and turned to face the twenty students all staring at me. I was a reasonably popular guy so I wasn't really bothered about the others laughing at me. It was just the principle of standing there for nearly three minutes and talking non-stop which was daunting.

I held my paper in shaky hands and opened my mouth, remembering to take deep breaths. "Hello, my name is Phil Lester, I am sixteen years old and I'm going to talk to you about the possibility of life on other planets."

~~~~~  
"Hey mate, are you coming out tonight? Tristin and Connor are having a party since their parents are out." Matty came to sit by me at lunch. He was on report again. Which he was proud of for some strange reason. I looked up from my lunch of oreo's and a rustler burger which I had packed myself since mum was never at home and shrugged. "Probably not.." I muttered. "My mum wants me to go and see her at work."

Matty bit into his burger from the canteen. "Really?" he said through a mouthfull of mushy burger. "Where does your mum even work?"

I snorted. "All I know is that it's a hospital." I muttered, with an edge to my tone. Yeah, the hospital she had abandoned me for since I was a freaking baby.

"Have you ever been in?" Matty asked, dipping a chip in the dollop of ketchup he had squeezed all over his plate.

I frowned, cocking my head. "No I actually haven't?" I sighed. It was pretty weird that I haven't ever set foot in my mother's work.

"Just come to the party then?" Matty leaned back in his chair. "Your mum's never home anyway, so just make an excuse?"

I considered that. I could say I have loads of homework I guess?

I looked around the canteen packed with red and blue clad kids. The school uniform is a blue blazer with a red stripy tie. I don't bother with a blazer since it's mid July. Instead I wear a white shirt with my year 10 tie loose around my collar customised with stickers.

Tristin Mcvey and Connor Thorpe were sitting with Lara Peter's and her friends Emily Johnson. They were laughing about something and Tristin had his arm around Emily's shoulder. She in turn kept playing with his brown locks and giggling flirtatiously. Well there's the new couple everyone's going to be talking about in class next.

Tristin and Connor were the most popular guys in our year. Of course they were. They were, in my opinion, pretty hot. There was Tristin with his curly brown hair and chestnut coloured eyes. Not that I've been looking at them.

Nope. I have definitely not been staring at him long enough to learn the colour of his eyes.

Tristin was the kind of guy who was top in everything and somehow still managed to look cool. He wore football jersey's like some kind of american jock wannabe with tight jeans and converse. He wasn't a dick like some guys, he was alright, but pretty intimidating to kids who weren't popular or not good looking girls. Or guys? no stop it Phil, he's not gay. God dammit!

Connor had dirty blonde short hair he usually spiked up with hair gel. He was less stuck up than Tristin, more of a nice guy. Plus he was more casual with his clothes. Connor was more likely to wear a t-shirt covered in lizards and shorts in the Summer. In colder seasons he normally wore woolly jumpers and jeans. He wasn't as smart as Tristin and was prone to asking ridiculous questions. Like once he asked our history teacher who Hitler's last name was. I worry about his GCSE results next year.

"Phil?" Matty waved a hand infront of my face. "Mate?"

I blinked and drew my gaze from Connor and Tristin back to my best friend. "Hmm, yeah?"

"You alright, mate? you've gone kinda pale?" Matty looked worried. Well, as worried as Matty Jason could look. I snapped myself out of the daze and shrugged. "I dunno, I've got a bit of headache that's all." I rubbed my temples and winced when a dull pain throbbed across my forehead.

"Go to the nurse?" Matty stood up and grabbed his bag, his eyes looking straight past me. I followed his gaze to find Lara Peter's walking out with Tristin and Connor. "Hey, Tris!" he yelled over. Tristin turned and waved. "Matty! Still coming to the party?"

"Yep!" Matty ran over to him and I caught Lara Peter's rolling her eyes at Matty, her friend Emily giggling. "In a bit Phil!" Matty shouted over his shoulder to me.

"M'kay." I mumbled, turning back round, avoiding Tristin's gaze. What if he saw me staring at him?

The bell rang to my relief and the canteen quickly emptied of kids, everyone finishing their food and grabbing their bags. I stood up and rushed out, fishing in my pocket for my iPod. My head is banging and I can't be doing with the yells and squeals of excited year sevens running down the hallway, their gigantic rucksacks bouncing on their backs.

I found my phone at the bottom of my bag and screwed my earphones in, letting Mumford and Son's sooth my headache and made my way, taking my time, to my next lesson which was Maths.

I can't be bothered with maths. Can't I just go to the nurse?

The corridors were empty now, as everyone were in classes. I made my way down them, swaying slightly to my iPod and wondering if Tristin Mcvey was actually gay.

He can't be, he has Lara! I groaned inwardly and cursed my stupid teenage hormones. Why can't I be normal and be attracted to girls? I sighed and started to jog up E Block stairs to the maths department. I'm already five minutes late, but Mr Jason doesn't really care. He just sits there and stares at his laptop, letting the class do what they want. If I want a decent maths grade, I might have to ask to switch classes-

"S'cuse me!" someone- a girl, squeaked as she ran into me making me nearly topple downstairs. "Hey!" I shouted. "Watch where you're going!" I don't normally snap at people but the brewing pain in my head had worsened and I could barely put one foot infront of the other.

"Sorry!" The girl shouted over her shoulder. She must be a first year, she only looks about twelve. The girl slammed her hand over her mouth and her shoes squeaked on the floor when she suddenly bent over and threw up all over the corridor. I grimaced and felt my stomach flip again. "Are you okay?" I yelled down the stairs, a twinge of guilt hitting me in the gut for yelling at her for slamming into me. "Hey, do you need help?"

"No! I'm fine, leave me alone!" the girl groaned. She was sobbing into her hands and her cheeks were bright red in embarassment. I sighed and jogged back down, walking over to her warily. "Sorry I yelled at you," I offered her my hand. "I've just got a headache."

She groaned and took it, letting me help her to her feet. The girl was small with red hair in a pony tail and freckles. "Thanks," she smiled weakly at me. Then she eyed the puddle of vomit and frowned. "I didn't mean to do it.." she mumbled. "My boyfriend made me do it!" she insisted.

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Wait, what did he make you do?" I asked her softly.

She looked down at the floor and shuffled her feet. "Tod…he was doing it behind the sports hall with his friends.." she murmured. Then she lifted her head and looked at me. "I- I didn't want to look uncool infront of his friends and now-" she stifled a sob and swiped her eyes. "Now everythings spinning and I can't go to class like this!" she whimpered. I frowned at her. Yes, she was right. Her eyes were dialated as hell. "Just..go to the nurse and explain the situation to her, she'll understand." I said.

Part of me was screaming, "YOU'RE TWELVE, WHY ARE YOU SMOKING CANNABIS?!" but the gentle part of me, the one in control, smiled reassuringly. "It was just a mistake-" I frowned. "What's your name?"

"Maisy," the girl sniffed. She wiped her nose with her blazer sleeve and took a deep breath taking a step forward and stumbled. I steadied her before she tipped over. "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked. "I can take you to the nurses office?"

Maisy shook her head. "No, I'm okay. Thanks." With a small smile she turned away from me and waddled off down the corridor, her sniffs echoing all the way untill I could no longer hear them.

When Maisy had gone I started to go back upstairs, but a sudden yell startled me. It came from above me and I looked up and my stomach jumped into my throat.

There was a guy balanced dangerously ontop of the railings on the top floor. The white railings were flimsy and anyone could fall through them. But this guy? he was standing purposely on them.

I couldn't see him properly but I could make out a different blazer on him, with the same school crest on mine. It was bright red and his tie was black and white, underneath his collar. The guy looked about my age with brown hair and that's all I could make out. "I'LL DO IT!" he screamed, lunging forward, his hands still gripping the railings for balance.

It took me a few seconds for me to comprehend what he was going to do. "N-no- wait!" I yelled up. "Don't do it, I'll- I'll get help!"

"Help!" I yelled. "He's- he's going to jump!" Shaking like mad, I didn't dare move unless he did jump. I'm the only one who can coax him into not jumping.

"HELP!" I screamed. "Please! he- he's going to jump!"

The boy didn't seem to notice me or care. He kept screaming threats and his voice sliced through my ears. "I can't do it anymore!" he cried. Then he started to sob, his grip on the railing slowly slipping.

"No!" I tried to scream, but my mouth couldn't form the words.

"Mr Lester?" I turned to see my PE teacher staring at me. "Young man! what on earth are you doing?" Mr Young squinted at me, his frown deepening when I pointed upwards. "He's going to jump sir! s-stop him!" I stuttered.

"I'm sorry, what?" Mr Young looked at me as if I was insane. What's he doing? the boys going to jump! Why doesn't he care?!

"The-the b-boy!" I tried to say, but when I looked up and saw the boys grip on the railings slip and his body slump forward, a scream erupted from my lips and I stumbled backwards unable to tear my eyes away as the boy dropped at least sixty feet.

"No-n-no!" I screamed at Mr Young as he stared at me- ME! He was bothered what I was doing when a student has just jumped off the top floor balcony?!

"Stop staring at me! The- the boy has j-j-j-!" I grabbed him suddenly and shook him before I knew what I was doing. "You basterd! You- c-could have caught him!" I screached, unable to speak properly. All I could do was scream. "Phil Lester!" Mr Young ragged me off him and grabbed me, wrapping his arms round my waist. "Phil! Hey- Calm down!"

"Hello? I have a hysterical student!' he yelled into his walkie talkie. "Lester." he said calmly. "Yes, I need an ambulance please!" Mr Young kept hold of me while I screamed and struggled. "The- the boy!" I stammered desperately. I managed to twist out of my PE teachers grip and stumbled towards the staircase. "I n-n-need to see him!" I cried, running downstairs to the bottom level. "Phil!" Mr Young ran after me. "Mr Lester! Stop!" I took the stairs two at a time, leaping down them.

I made it down to the last floor and scanned the ground, still sobbing. There was no body. Where was it?! It must have landed here! I fell to my knees and started to search for him. He must be here. I saw him fall!

"Phil." Mr Young appeared with back up. There were teachers and some students all standing a few meters away from me warily.

"The boy!" I said clearly, managing to speak. I faced them. My history teacher, Mr Young and the school nurse. Maisy was there too. Staring at me, her expression a mix of terror and confusion.

"The- the boy!' I choked. "He- he must have landed here!" I gabbled desperately.

"Phil." The school nurse stepped forwards slowly. "Phil, love. Calm down. There is no boy."

What?! what's she talking about?

"I- I saw h-h-him!" I dropped to my knees again and began to search but a familar yell made me jump to my feet. All the teachers, staring at me as if they hadn't heard it. "I'LL DO IT!" the same voice screamed and I looked up again to see…him. The boy with the brown hair and wild eyes.

He was in exactly the same position. Standing on the railings with his fingers wrapped around them, his feet close to the edge…

"I can't do it anymore!" he cried, his grip loosening. Then he started to sob. His sobs haunted me. I couldn't speak. All I could do was stare at the boy while the school nurse walked over calmly and injected something into my arm. What is that? it feels weird.

"The-the- NO!" another screach escaped my lips when once again, the boy just…slumped forwards, lifeless. As if he was already dead.

I felt the nurse lie me down but could only concentrate on the boys body dropping sixty feet, and once again I was helpless to save him. "He-he's-" I tried to speak, but my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool.

Where's the boy gone? I try to blink but my eyes feel heavy and a feeling of ice is prickling over my skin. "I'LL DO IT!" I forced my eyes open to see the boy- how can this be happening again?!

He was on the top floor once again. Balanced on the railings.

How can that be….no, don't think Phil. Just..sleep. Yes, that's what I should do. I should just…sleep.

I can't open my eyes, but I can still hear the voices of my teachers. Murmurs of gathering students.

"Phil Lester? he's gone mad! he attacked Mr Young yelling about a boy…" someone said quietly.

"Freak." another one spat, disgusted. "What was he screaming about? a boy?"

Then a new voice. One with authority and a soft tone. "Phil? I'm going to make you feel better okay? you're going to feel a little prick and then just relax, okay?"

"Noooo," I mumbled thickly. My lips felt ten sizes too fat and my voice sounded slurred. "The boy- please..the boy!" I tried to get up with the last of my strength but strong hands held me down firmly.

"Phil, honey. Litsen to me. There was no boy, okay? you were just imagining him." the voice said.

I wasn't! he was real, I saw him!

Suddenly something was stuck into my arm. A needle. It felt alien and sharp slicing into my skin and I let out a whimper, letting my head fall back into someones arms. Then a strange feeling overwhelmed me and I had to fight to stay concious. Didn't the school nurse already inject me?

The murmurs and voices all mixed into one tinny white noise and then- nothing. Everything was silent. I was left, clinging onto conciousness, stray thoughts keeping my awake. What were my parents going to think? Matty and Tristin and Connor? Why won't anyone believe me about the boy?

He was real. I saw him fall. I saw him fall twice! the boy was real.

So why were people acting like he wasn't?

That last thought stayed on my mind as slowly but surely my brain began to shut down and sleep. And then before I knew it there was nothing.

~~  
I woke up screaming.

I don't know what I was screaming. Muddled nonsense. Tears were streaming down my face and my throat felt thick. I was clutching my duvet and had to sit there taking deep breaths to stop myself from hyperventilating.

After calming myself down, I got my bearings and looked around mine and Dan's room. It was dark except from the torch Dan was shining across the room. I glanced at the clock on my bedside. 4:35am, it read. I groaned and collapsed back into my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to catch my breath. I remember.

I remember why I was sent here. How the hell had I forgot?!

I remember waking up in hospital with my mother beside me. I'd been doped up on god knows what drugs so I had no idea what was going on. But I had remembered what mum had said.

"We're sending you to a special school for a bit." she had said calmly, stroking my forehead. "It'll be alright love. Just untill you're better. There are kids like you."

There are kids like you. Her words echoed in my mind and I recalled Dan's words. "I thought you didn't belong here because you're normal..turns out you're as fucked up in the head as everyone else!"

The boy. Who had jumped off the top floor. Was he real? Like was the drowning girl in the bathroom real? or the american guy in the basement. Are they just all part of my fucked up head?

What about the lies. The fake reasons why I was sent here. Did I make them up myself or were they planted in my mind?

I snuggled back down, burying myself in the comfort of my duvet.

Then Dan sighed. "Phil?" he asked quietly. I sat up in bed and looked at him. "What?" I muttered, wiping my eyes.

"Uh.." Dan was lying on his side in his bed with a book. His eyes were on me, riddled with worry. I raised my eyebrows. Dan? Worried?

"Are you-?" he hesitated, then rolled his eyes at me. "Had a nightmare Phil Lester?" he teased nastily. Then he scoffed and eyed his book, turning the page. "I thought little kids had nightmares"

I didn't answer. Instead choosing to bury under the duvet again so I could stifle my sobs from him.

I wonder where he went. Did he really meet a girl?

Why do I care? I scoffed and buried my head in the soft pillows cradling my head. After a while Dan swiched his torch off and his matress squeaked when he got properly into bed. We both lay in silence untill I couldn't take it anymore. "Dan?" I asked quietly, still keeping my eyes shut.

I wasn't expecting a reply, but after a few seconds, he mumbled and yawned. "What, Phil Lester?"

"What is Redtail Boarding school?" I paused. "What is it really?"

He groaned in reply. "It's a place for psycho teenagers." he mumbled, then yawned again.

"And you fit in perfectly." he said quietly, an edge to his sleepy tone.

Then he fell asleep, and I found myself fall into a slumber, calmed by Dan's paced breathing combined with mine.

~~  
"Two sausage rolls to take out?"

I blinked and frowned, my eyebrows dipping together. "Huh?"

I was standing in Greggs, at the front of a long queue on a warm Sunday morning. I shouldn't be up this early, but Penny was eager for Dan to take me on a tour around London. Supervised of course. We are 'Psyhos' after all. Miss Jackson was sitting in the car down the road. I'm hoping to talk to her later about what happened. How had they made me forget in the first place? plus, why did they lie to me telling me it was a boarding house when really it was some kind of young person rehab?

It all made sense. I was sent here because I saw things which weren't there. Dan was here because he set his parents house on fire and PJ was here after stabbing somene in the eye.

Mental patients. That's what we are.

"Two sausage rolls to take out?" the lady held out two brown paper bags and I took them with a polite thanks and handed one to Dan, who was standing as far away from me as possible, his eyes glued to his phone. Dan was in a t-shirt and jeans, his backpack slung over his shoulders. I wore my MUSE top and skinny's.

"That's one sixty, love." the women held her hand out.

"Um, okay..hang on." I scooped a handfull of change out of my pocket and handed her it.

"Cheers!" she said cheerfully tipping the money into the cash register. "Anything else?" I shook my head in reply and walked out, Dan following me, already demolishing his sausage roll.

We walked out of Greggs onto the busy London highstreet and I turned to Dan. "You can go and do whatever you want," I shrugged. "I'm just gonna go and sit on that bench and think." I pointed to a wooden bench surrounded by pidgeons. He didn't say anything.

"Right, okay.." I walked over to the bench and sat down, unwrapping my sausage roll and thinking about having to speak to my mum tomorrow. To my surprise, Dan joined me and sat there in silence.

I can't think when he's sat there, probably trying to annoy me.

"Dan?" I didn't look at him, instead deciding to stare at the bright blue, cloudless sky. "Um, I said you can go if you want?"

"Mphhh," he mumbled through a mouthfull of sausage roll. He had pastry flakes all over his face and I had to resist the temptation to reach over and swipe them off.

Dan didn't budge and I gave up trying to get rid of him. When he finished eating, he screwed up the greasy brown paper bag and chucked it in the bin next to him.

We sat in a peacefull silence, watching the world go by infront of us. Dan pulled his legs up onto the bench and crossed them, leaning back letting his fringe fall in his face. I snuck a glance at him the second he looked over at me and we both looked away quickly.

"So-?" I broke the awkward silence between us and his gaze went from the old man handing out Fab's and 99's to a crowd of children, to me. "What?" he grunted. "God, Phil Lester. Spit it out!" he rolled his eyes smirking.

Why does he have to be such a dick?! I gritted my teeth and turned away from him. "Never mind.." I muttered, irritated.

"No, you were going to say something?" his tone softened and he sighed. "Just tell me.." he muttered. "I'm listening, Phil."

I took a breath and fiddled with clasped hands in my lap. "Is it true you burnt your parents house down?' I suddenly asked. Like word vomit. Oh god. This is our conversation last night all over again.

I saw him stiffen and he brushed his fringe out of his eyes. "How did you know that?" he asked tonelessly. Oh, so it was true then.

Before I could answer he chuckled darkly and looked up at me, his brown eyes piercing and angry. His glare looked so sinister I had to look away. "No, wait!" he laughed, straightening up with a giggle. It was as happy as he was going to get. I shivered when he let out another loud laugh, a few passers by glancing at him.

"They told you didn't they?" he smacked his forehead, giggling again. "Bethan and Charlie? Finn Jack and Caspar?" he grinned, his dimples on show and I couldn't help noticing how much he resembled Tristin minus the curly hair.

"Well, yeah? they did tell me." I found my voice and to my dismay I was stammering again. "I- I didn't believe them at first, but- then- then y-you bu-burnt me."

He stared at me for a few seconds before giggling again. "I didn't burn you, you imagined it."

Like I imagined the boy commiting suicide and the girl drowning in the bath?

"No I didn't." I mumbled. "You burnt me!" I said, my voice becoming slightly more confident.

He poked me in my temple, still giggling. "We're all messed up Phil" he said quietly. "Just embrace your inner psycho!"

Dan was really starting to irritate me. I stood up, grabbing my bag. "I'm going into-" I scanned the shops around the plaza, spotting one of my favourite. "That book shop." I set off walking across the busy path and smiled when I set foot in the book shop. A familiar warm and comforting feeling hit me as I made my way across sections of books labled by colourfull signs. Adult fiction, none fiction, Biography, Graphic novels, Horror- ah! Teen fiction.

The geek part of me is screaming happily that there is a Waterstones here. Well of course there is, it's London! Can I blame ridiculous thoughts on my insanity? Am I even sane?

The Teen section was as comfy and calming as the one back in Rossendale. There were four bookshelves with every book genre I could think of. The New York Best Selling ones were on the top shelf. Books like The 'Twilight' series and Harry Potter, the Divergent series, Mortal Instruments. Books by Stephanie Meyer. You name it. It was there.

"So you like books, huh?"

I turned, startled, to find Dan stood behind me with that stupid smirk on his face with those raised eyebrows. He had followed me again? What was wrong with this guy? Don't answer that Phil.

"Yeah," I folded my arms and tried to glare at him, but the sun was in my eyes so I just looked like I was squinting at him. "So what if I am?" I muttered.

Dan shook his head with a chuckle. "Nothing, actually." he smiled at me and I frowned. A genuine smile? Then he walked past me and over to the fantasy section, skimming over the books with his index finger. To my surprise he pulled out the Game Of Thrones book 3 and sat down cross legged with it in his lap and began to skim through it, a thoughtfull look on his face.

I wasn't surprised he was a reader, since I had seen him reading last night- well 3am this morning. It's just, Dan doesn't look like the kind of guy who reads. He glares at everyone, me the most. How can somone as…dark and soulless as Dan Howell actually like books?

Okay, so I'm steriotyping readers as geeks with glasses with no friends, but I see Dan as the kind of guy who kicks puppies and laughs or worships satan underneath a photo of Mila Kunis.

Maybe I really am insane…

I decided to leave him to his book and go and check out the graphic novels in the other section. He looks pretty peacefull so I guess it's a death-wish to disturb him.

~  
I was torn out of one of many Spider Man comics to a yell. Which, surprise suprise, came from Dan. I quickly shoved the book back on the shelf and made my way back to the seen section where I had left him.

I found him. He was stood, frozen with a lump of black in his hands. I sniffed and caught the whiff of burning. Dan was staring into space, looking terrified. "Why did you burn it?!" he demanded to thin air. I felt a rush of Deja Vu remembering him in the forest.

"I LIKED THAT BOOK!" he suddenly screamed, throwing the lump, which I recognised as the badly burnt Game of Thrones novel he had been reading, at thin air. There was nothing there.

"Dan…" I glanced at the staff working at the till. Somehow they hadn't noticed. I grabbed his arm quickly. "Dan, w-we need to go."

"No!" he pulled away and once again an agonising pain ran down my arm and I let out a squeak, letting go of him. "Shit!" I cried.

"N-no…I didn't mean to-" he stared at me with wide eyes. "Phil, I don't know what's wrong with me!" he hissed desperately.

My arm was stinging and the skin had blistered bright red like last time. "It's- It's fine." I whispered, unable to talk properly. How had he managed to burn that book to cinders? Did he strike a match?!

How the hell did he burn me?! I started shaking violently and started making my way out of the shop. I didn't look back to see if be was following me. I didn't care.

"Phil!" Miss Jackson ran over to me looking worried, her hair flying everywhere. She was still wearing her tracksuit. "What happened? Where's Dan?"

She seemed pretty wary about Dan. Course she is, he's a psycho!

"Here." a voice came from behind me. "I'm- uh..I'm here." Dan's voice was shaking and he had his arms folded tightly across his chest. Is he hiding something?

Matches? A lighter?

"Dan." Miss Jackson frowned at him. "What have you done?"

"Nothing." he mumbled, looking down. Miss Jackson must have done this before because she reached forward and uncrossed his arms. "No! I- I didn't mean to I swear!" he adopted the voice of a child and tried to pull away.

"Oh, Daniel. What have you done?" she murmured.

I stared at Dan's arms, trying to stop myself from crying out, and bit into my bottom lip, tasting blood automatically.

Dan's arms were red raw, blistered and burnt. He had burnt himself. He had given himself first degree burns with nothing but his own hands. How is that possible?

~  
Miss Jackson drove us back to the boarding house keeping a close eye on Dan sitting in the front seat. I sat at the back, nibbling my lip and staring as busy London traffic flew past and then became the familiar leafy pathway leading up to Redtail Boarding house surrounded by drooping trees. I glimpsed the forest which I had been forced to adventure into that first night in and shivered.

Dan was silent the whole way back and kept sneaking looks at me through the rear-view mirror.

When we reached 'Home,' Dan stormed straight upstairs to his room with Miss Jackson following him. "Daniel! Get back here now!"

Following Dan wouldn't be a good idea, so I joined Caspar and Bethan in the lounge. "Phil!' Bethan greeted me, sweeping a cushion out of the way so I could sit down. "Hey mate!" Caspar looked up from his PSP and smiled at me. I in turn sat down, still shaky and greeted them quietly. The lounge resembled my own living room with two sofas, a flat screen TV and a furry rug which lay on bright red carpet.

Bethan and Caspar were watching Peep Show. A programme Tristin was always talking about in form. All I got from the show watching it now, was two guys yelling at each other and having in-depth conversations with themselves in their minds. Oh and occasionally had awkward sex with girls.

Bethan was curled up with a fluffy cushion pressed to chest and had tied her hair into ribbons again. She laughed occasionally at the TV and rewinded back to the funny bit. Caspar sat with his PSP in his lap, every so often pausing in gameplay- and looking at the TV.

I wonder why Caspar's here? Dan didn't mention him being a psycho. I glanced at him and tried to imagine him freaking out and screaming at thin air, but it was hard when he looked so innocent?

But he has to be here for something.

"Jez is attractive.." Bethan muttered, breaking me out of my thoughts. Her eyes glued to the TV screen. She glanced at me. "Don't you think?" she shoved me playfully. I shrugged. "I dunno, I don't really watch it.." to be honest I was more worried about my possible arsonist roommate.

"Jeremy is played by Robert Web," Caspar dropped his PSP onto his lap with a sigh. The sound effects coming from his game made it obvious he had died- again. "Of course he's attractive, Bethan!"

"Wow Caspar, you're really showing your straight side." Bethan giggled and twazzed a cushion at him. He grinned and chucked one back. "Funny!"

While they bashed each-other with cushions I considered grabbing the TV remote and switching over to Cartoon Network for the 'kids' (teen) show, Adventure Time. I watched it every day after school- when I was alone of course. If my friends found out I watched a kids programme I would never hear the end of it. Though why would they care now? Matty will never speak to me again, knowing his best friend went mental and had to be sedated and hospitalized.

I shook away the thought. "Hey, can I watch TV?" Bethan and Caspar were pratically straddling each-other. Bethan tossed me the remote. "Yeah sure, knock yourself out!"

"Thanks." I fiddled with the TV remote, thankfully it was easy to work, and scrolled to the kids channels. 'Adventure time' was there in white letters. On right now. I clicked OK on the remote and the screen flicked onto the the familar crazy background which displayed Jake the dog and Finn the human. Despite being heavily weighed down with questions and my own sanity, I still couldn't keep the smile off my face. It was in a way- comforting.

"What's this?" Bethan crawled off of Caspar after admitting defeat while he shrieked a triumphant battle cry. "VICTORY!" he grinned. "Oh, it's that thing my little cousin watches!" Bethan exclaimed, out of breath while fixing her hair.

"My friend watches this!" Caspar sat up staring at the TV, looking genuinely interested. "I don't get it, what's it about?"

"A dog and guy who eat loads of sweets?" Bethan shrugged. "That's what it looks like.."

"Maybe the sweets are drugged?" Caspar laughed. "That's what makes them high and THAT explains why the programme's so weird!"

"It's a kids programme, you twirp!" Bethan shoved him again.

Caspar rolled his eyes. "You take everything so seriously. I was kidding!"

Bethan grinned and reached out to hit him playfully and he dodged the hit laughing. But then she lost her smile and her eyes darkened. Her hand was still gripping Caspar's shoulder.

I watched, seeing the same blank expression appear on Bethan's, which had been on Dan's back in Town. Blankly staring at nothing.

"Ow! you don't have to grip me-" Caspar swallowed his words and frowned when he noticed Bethan's expression. "Hey, beth?" he stood up and waved his hand infront of her face, clicking his fingers. She was still sat, staring into thin air, her lips twisted into a grimace. "Shit.." Caspar mumbled. I snapped out of it and frowned. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Here we go again.." he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "She's catatonic." he explained, eyeing me. "S'alright, it happens sometimes. She'll be alright in a minute." he reassured softly.

"It happen's sometimes." Caspar's voice repeated in my head.

"Shouldn't we get a teacher?" I stood up, again my legs were wobbly and I had to grit my teeth to stand properly. Caspar shook his head. "Nah, just leave it mate."

I was about to protest when a strangled scream made me jump, reminding me of the girl I had seen being drowned in the bath.

Bethan. I stared as she jumped up, eyes wide and terrified, her mouth agape. "Dan!" she squeaked, grabbing Caspar and shaking him. "Where is he?!"

A cold shiver ran down my spine and I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. He was in his room- right?

"Hey, calm down!' Caspar grabbed her face gently. "Bethan. Bethan! Look at me! Everything's okay, just calm down okay?"

She was shaking violently, her cheeks ashen. Stumbling and stuttering over her sentences. "N- no!" she screamed. "Dan! They're- they're going to-" she swallowed and swiped at her damp cheeks. "They- he- there were-" she clutched Caspar and he drew circles on her back with his finger calmly. "Bethan…who's they?"

She reminded me of myself back at school.

"They're going to…him!" she said through sobs. "Where is he?!" she wailed, wrenching herself away from Caspar and running out of the lounge. Her footsteps pounding on the stairs as she thundered up them still sobbing.

Caspar ran after her. "Bethan! Calm down! Bethan, he's fine!"

I had no choice but to follow him. I ran upstairs, a million thoughts running through my head. Bethan's screams. What was she saying? Dan was what?

She was acting as if his life was on the line. I remembered the burns on his arms and a rush of fear mixed with adrenaline pushed me up the last staircase.

I ran into mine and Dan's room to find Bethan sobbing and yelling gibberish at Dan, who was sat on his bed with his laptop on his knee looking really confused.

I could have laughed in relief.

Relief?! No, Phil! Why do you care?!

Caspar was stood next to Bethan, also yelling at Dan. Though instead of gibberish, he was apologising. "Sorry Dan, she's freaking out again." while Bethan screamed, "I saw it! They're- they're going to-"

Dan cocked his head frowning. "First of all, you didn't knock, second-" he eyed both of them. "What the FUCK are you talking about?!"

"Bethan's having one of her annual freak out's." Caspar explained. "Like the one with Anthony?" he rolled his ueyes.

"What's going on?" a familar voice said from the doorway. I turned to see Miss Jackson stood there.

The second Bethan caught Miss Jackson's eye, she stumbled backwards and started hyperventilating. "No! L-leave me alone!" she pointed to Dan, who stil looked confused. "Leave him alone!" she shrieked. Miss Jackson stepped forward calmly. "Bethan, I can assure you I have no intention of hurting Mr Howell."

"No!" Bethan stamped her foot, still crying, and at the same moment something splattered all over the walls. Hairgel. Dripping off the walls and the closet we shared. Bethan shrunk back into the corner. "I- I didn't- there was no hairgel on the-" Miss Jackson was making her way to Bethan, slipping something from her pocket. A syringe. "Give her some space." the teacher knelt next to the quivering girl and slid the needle into her arm. "I said get out!" Miss Jackson hissed sternly.

I scampered out of the room, followed by Dan. Caspar stayed glued to the spot. "What's going to happen to her?" he demanded.

"We're going to send her home. Give her time to rest." The teacher answered flatly. "She's very ill, Caspar."

"So am I!" he hissed. I stayed on the corridor awkwardly while Dan pressed his ear to the door even when it was open. "She didn't mean to get hair gel everywhere!" his voice was turning into a sob.

"Caspar. I'll make sure to let Penny allow you to call her when she's feeling better. Untill then, can you please leave the room?"

"Fine!" he left the room, storming out, shoving past me and Dan before breaking into a jog down the corridor and then downstairs, making sure to slam every door he went through violently behind him.

So there was a different side to Caspar.

While Dan went back into our room and moaned about hair gel all over the wall's, before sitting back on his bed with his laptop like nothing had happened, I sat on my own bed and tried not to piece things together in my head.

All these little things I had learnt. Like the strange drink. Only me, Dan and Bethan avoided it. I was seeing girls drowning, Dan was burning things (Which I still don't undertand the physics of) and Bethan was freaking out about Dan being in mortal danger.

Only an idiot would pass that off as a coincidence. What if it was? what if I'm being really paranoid?

What about school? I start tomorrow and I'm not even sure if it even exists. What if it was some kind of cover up? to keep me learning the truth, which that I'm stuck in a school for psycho kids.

Stop it Phil. Stop over-thinking things. You're sick. I told myself.

If I was so 'Sick' why had nobody mentioned it? why was there a cover-up in the first place?

~~~~  
I let out a sigh of relief escape my lips as warm water sprayed into my face from the shower nozzle and I stood, relishing in the warmth for a few seconds. Then I blindly reached for the blueberry scented shampoo and squeezed it all of my hair, lathering it all over my hair. This is the one place where I can relax and not think up crazy theories and let paranoia control my thoughts. I can just stand here and listen to the calming sound of the shower.

The shower itself wasn't anything special. It was a simple, modern shower. No fancy tweaks like ours at home. I scrubbed my body with the sponge and let the warm water rinse off left over bubbles.

"Hey there, little necro." a girl murmured in my ear and I let out a shriek, nearly falling over. I blindly grabbed a towel and wiped my face and blinked away condensation, trying to see through the steam. "Hello?!"

"Helloooo?" there it was again. I turned, shaking, to see a girl standing outside the shower. She had long curly blonde hair and was wearing a long white shirt covered in dark red stains. I swallowed and prayed it wasn't what I think it was.

"Hey." she smiled sweetly. There was something familiar about her but my brain was too busy screaming at me that she was a hallucination I couldn't think straight. I stared at her, unable to speak. She's not real. She's just a figment of my imagination.

"I'm Elizabeth." she smiled sadly. "But you can call me Lizzie."

I'm tempted to continue now :D It's a stupid place to stop it haha and idk I'm proud of this chapter for some reason…

Like/reblog for more! :)

Dedicated to Livithezebra, acaeria and shattered5423 AKA Kenzie! :) (And everyone who's reading!) ^_^ have a ~~~~:P

Also, this phanfic is based off of one of my favourite book trilogy's ^_^


	8. Chapter 8

_"Lizzie?" I found my voice, which was choked at the back of my throat. The girl nodded and smiled sadly. "Unfortunately.." she sighed heavily and cast her eyes to the pale blue bathroom tiles. I was still standing, half naked now, in the shower with a towel covering my bottom half._

_There was no question. It was the girl I had seen being drowned in the bathroom last night._

_She was real. I wasn't imagining her because she was standing there clear as day! If she was real, how many other things I thought was my insanity, was also actually real?_

_The girl might have been pretty. A long time ago. She was in a white nightgown, creased and wrinkled with crimson stains splotching her torso. Her hair was a dirty blonde colour which hung in limp strands at either side of her face. Her skin itself was pale and dotted with blue and black smudges. Especially on her arms. Bruises?_

_She had an opaque look to her, as if you could walk straight through her chest and she wouldn't even flinch. The girl stood there as if she was a faded photograph. She was barefoot, her toes wiggling in the puddle of water she was standing in. It took me a few seconds to realise she was the one creating the puddle. Her hair was dripping wet, drops of scarlet tinged water sliding down her cheeks. I swallowed. "Are you-" once again my voice was stuck in my throat. The girl smirked and shrugged. "Yeah, I'm dead, necro" the girl cocked her head, confused. "Why doesn't it phase such a powerful one like you?"_

_I couldn't speak. I could only stare at the dead girl, Lizzie, with her hauntingly beautiful blue eyes too impossible to be real. Her iris' almost shined and I cringed when I remembered watching her terrified eyes as she was forced underwater. I shook the thought out of his head and felt sick to my stomach. Beautiful?!_

_"Well?" Lizzie was staring at me, a small frown on her lips. "Why do you look so scared, necro?" she repeated. I felt a shiver bite down my spine. There it was again. That word. What did it mean?_

_"That word.." I whispered. "What does it mean?" then after gaining more confidence. "Why do you keep calling me that?!"_

_Lizzie righted her head and I swore I heard a sickening crack making the nauseous feeling in my stomach worse. She folded her arms with a chuckle. "You don't know what you are?" her lips curved into a smile. "Well, necro, look at me." she pointed at herself. "My name is Elizabeth Mason and I was murdered because I couldn't control myself!" she laughed, flipping her hair out of her face. " Which is crazy right?!" she squeaked, a manic look appearing in her dead eyes._

_"OF COURSE I CAN CONTROL MYSELF!" she screamed, her voice piercing and deafening. She turned and started to twirl. Like a ballet dancer. But instead of graceful she was clumsy and stumbled, her arms flying out and at the same time the bathroom mirror shattered and the ceiling cracked, the taps on the sink burst, water spraying out and hitting me. I let out a cry, staggering backwards when Lizzie's hair began to fall out and her pale skin fell off her face in chunks. She was still giggling like a child but her clothes started to fade, her skin wasted away, her face turned gaunt and emaciated. Her smile was still visible through skeletal teeth. I couldn't move. I was paralysed. Because Lizzie wasn't standing there anymore._

_Her eyes were dark empty sockets and she stopped spinning and stood frozen, staring straight at me. I felt a scream building in my throat but I couldn't move my lips. I could only stare in horror. Because Lizzie was gone, instead standing there was Bethan. She grinned at me with her skeletal teeth and looked straight through me with black and hauntingly empty and soulless eyes._

_"Told you I could control myself."_

*  
"Phil Lester? Can you stop fucking screaming? it's 1am and I'm trying to sleep."

My eyes flew open to a familiar pair of brown eyes three inches away from my face. Dan. He was sitting on my bed, staring at me with a smirk curved on his lips.

I stared at him for a few seconds and my vision blurred again, his smirk twisted into a skeletal grin like Bethan's, his eyes hollow and vacant. No trace of that sparkle, even if it was a spark of insanity, which was replaced by a deep, dark void in both eye sockets.

Before I could stop myself a frightened shriek escaped my lips and I jolted back, Dan nearly falling off the bed. "What the fuck?!" he laughed shakily. "So, Phil Lester…you gonna tell me why you were crying in your sleep and just yelled out in fear at the sight of my face?" he tutted. "I mean I know I'm attractive, but man, you don't have to scream."

I didn't have the mentality or patience to register Dan's words, so I blinked a few times to make sure his face was still there. Nope, he has skin. And eyes. I almost laughed. I'm going insane right?!

"What?" I tried to say, but my mouth and lips were dry as a bone. I leant on my elbows and wiped my eyes with my back hand. My cheeks were damp and my eyes raw from crying. I blearily looked around mine and Dan's room, trying to blink away Bethan- and then Dan's dead dark eyes staring at me, their smile's terrifyingly skeletal and crumbling. I sniffed and swiped at my eyes again, angry for being such a baby. Just a dream, just a nightmare. Just a stupid dream.

The room was dark as usual, the only light coming from Dan's laptop which was balanced on his bed. I squinted and frowned. His screensaver on his computer was him and a women- his mum?

I didn't have my contacts in so the photograph was a blur, but I could just make out the familiar light blue on Dan's mum, which I knew so well which were always on mine. Her hospital scrubs.

"Nightmares again?" speaking of Dan, he arched his brow while I sat up disoriented. My heart was hammering through my chest and I had to inhale and exhale a few times to calm myself down. Once I was reasonably calm, I sat shivering, ignoring Dan and tried to piece together the fragments of my dream which were slowly slipping away from me.

"Phil?" Dan sat on his knees and leaned over, brushing my fringe out of my face. I flinched but stayed quiet, the nightmare playing repeatedly in my head.

"Phiiiiiiillllll?" Dan fiddled with my fringe until I slapped his hand away irritated. "Oh come on!" he sighed and threw his legs over my bed, folding his arms across his chest with that fucking patronising smirk plastered on his face. I'd slap him, but I'm too shaken and to be honest, slapping Dan Howell wouldn't be very smart right?

I found my voice. It was whispery and barely audible, but it was still my voice. "Leave me alone, Dan." I mumbled quietly, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them for comfort.

The duvet kind of cave I had been inside of collapsed around me and I felt the cold air from the room hit my exposed arms and shivered. I was only wearing a pyjama top and thin cotton bottoms. Dan was in barely anything. He was only in a thread pyjama T-shirt and shorts.

I sat as far away from him as possible while he sat on the edge of my bed with a thoughtful look on his face which was pretty rare.

Dan sighed. "Leave you alone?" he repeated and glanced down at his lap. "You were yelling some pretty crazy stuff, Phil Lester…" he said quietly. He looked up, his brown hair sagging in his eyes. "What did you dream about?"

"Crazy stuff?" I glowered at him, hoping he would get the message to shut up, but he carried on speaking, his gaze on the dream catcher hanging from above his bed. Which I hadn't noticed until I followed his dreamy and distant regard. "Yeah, you said something about-?" he scrunched his face up and for a second he looked pretty adorable. I shook that off quickly.

"Necro?" Dan's tone was questioning, but it was clear like he had rehearsed it. That word again. It sent a sharp and frighteningly familiar stab in my gut and I recognised it automatically. That day which had been erased out of my mind but somehow I had remembered it.

The day when I had witnessed the suicide of the brown haired boy.

"Well?" Dan's inpatient hiss tore me out of my thoughts and I looked up to see his dark brown almost tantalising eyes studying me suspiciously. Then they narrowed. "From the look on your face you DO know what I'm talking about.." he muttered darkly.

"Dan." I sighed and cradled my head in-between my knees. "I don't know what I dream, okay?" I muffled into my lap. "They're just dreams, they don't mean anything, so unless you want to Google a none-existent word-"

I dislodged my head from between my knees and looked up to catch his glare. I groaned and swiped my fringe out of my eyes irritably. "Let me sleep!"

"But it is real.." Dan's lips moved but no sound came out. He looked almost desperate. Then his eyes darkened and he jumped up, my bed groaning and squeaking when he jumped off it, making a loud thud when he vaulted off.

"Do you WANT to wake the whole house up?!" I hissed loudly.

Dan ambled back to his side of our room, purposely making noise by stepping on discarded crisp packets and kicking a charger into the wall. "Okay, first of all Phil Lester.." he fell backwards onto his own bed giggling, and lay sprawled out on his duvet with his gaze on the ceiling. "What would you do if I told you I nearly killed my friend when I was younger?"

His head slipped off of his bed and he hung upside down, his fringe flopping in his face. I stayed curled up on my own bed, my arms wrapped around my chest felt almost like protection.

"It's-" I glanced at my bedside clock and groaned. "Four O clock n the morning!' I restrained myself from saying: 'Can't you be mentally unhinged tomorrow?!"

He sighed. "Answer the question, Phil Lester." He did look pretty ridiculous hanging off the bed like that. His face was bright red since all the blood had rushed to his head. "Wow Phil, why are you on the ceiling?" he giggled and then broke out into that stupid hyena laugh with them damn endearing dimples. I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes. "I-" I shrugged. "I guess I wouldn't be surprised, Dan."

He stopped laughing and looked straight at me and once again his eyes turned shadowy and sinister. Even hanging upside down his look still managed to look nasty.

"Well, Phil Lester." he almost spat, his tone going icy and threatening.  
I sighed and shuffled unnervingly, pulling my duvet around my bare arms. "Dan, look can you tell me this tomorrow? I'm really tired-"

"Shhh!" he interrupted me, placing a finger to his lips. Then he lay back down and through pure exhaustion and fatigue, I did too, letting out a sigh of irritance yet I was still kind of curious of Dan's story. "Go on then.." I muttered, staring at the blank ceiling. "Tell your story, or whatever." then after a pause I muttered, "S'not like I have a choice."

He might have mumbled something insulting back but I didn't properly hear it. "Okay…" Dan began, kicking his legs in the air. "When I was young. Five I think? Yeah, five." he sighed and examined his toes. "I- uh..well I had a friend. His name was Tyler."

Fascinating.

I wondered if five year old Dan was different from sixteen year old Dan. Maybe the guy actually had a soul when he was young.

"Anyway.." he fiddled with his fingers. "Tyler was umm American, like from the USA?" he turned to look at me. Again with that look as if he thought I was thick and didn't know where America was.

"I know where America is, Dan." I muttered sleepily finding it hard to keep my eyes open. But when I thought about Bethan and Lizzie, the horrifying and disgusting THINGS they had turned into in my dream. I shivered and chased off the thought clutching the duvet a bit tighter with clenched fists. Just a dream. A nightmare.

"So me and Tyler were playing in the snow with his dog, and I had an idea for a game." he continued, fidgeting with a Winnie the Pooh plushie which he had in his lap.

"Mm." I mumbled in acknowledgement.

"I-" Dan paused. "I guess I was jealous because he was a fast runner and I was pretty shit.." he chuckled to himself. "I am literally the unfitist person on the planet."

"Yeah? well so am I." I sighed, closing my eyes. He let out an exasperated hiss. "Phil! don't-"

"M' just resting my eyes!" I insisted, not opening them.

"Fine." he grumbled. Then; "So we played this game where we threw sticks for Tyler's dog-" he paused for a second and I opened my eyes confused. His bed squeaked when he turned on his side and let out a sigh, leaning on his hand.

"Tyler went first, but…but when it was my turn, instead of throwing the stick, I-" he wrinkled his nose and shuffled uncomfortably. "Well, I kind of threw Tyler half way across the park?" he said like a question. Like as if he was questioning his own actions.

"And again, why am I not surprised?" I mumbled, rolling my eyes at him. But from the look on his face he didn't find it funny, neither appreciate my lame humour. He looked scared and wary, and for the first time since I'd been here, I felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He was, in a way like me. Thrown into a school full of strangers and lied to, also from his strange story, he too was experiencing bizarre happenings.

"So, you did what? you threw a guy across the park?" I said quickly, avoiding his evil's. "Wait, why? how'd you manage that?"

"I don't know! how am I supposed to know that?!" he hissed. "I just- I don't know! all I did was throw the stick! and he just-" he paused with an angry growl. "Look, I know I sound crazy, but I think I made him fly…but I didn't touch him?"

I nodded slowly. "Right. Okay." Should I tell him about the dead girl, Lizzie in the bathroom? And the American boy in the cellar?

"So, what about you?" he eyed me and shrugged. "Obviously you think I'm crazy even when I KNOW that I catapulted my friend half way across a playing field without touching him, so go on Phil Lester, you never told me why you're here." he lay on his back and blew his fringe out of his eyes.

I thought back and remembered  
it being such a normal school day. I was going to do my GCSE speaking and listening presentation on the origins of the universe. I had been planning on going to Tristin Mcvey and Connor Thorpe, the most popular guys in year ten's party. I had a best friend and a reputation. I had a mother who I hardly saw but that didn't matter because I had a life.

Until the boy with the brown hair and terrified eyes jumped off the top floor and the world I had taken advantage of for so long had crumbled around me and strong sedatives and the overwhelming smell of anaesthetic and hospital cleaner had officially confirmed that I was insane. Sixteen year old Phil Lester who saw people jump to their deaths and attacked a teacher. Phil Lester who had been a model student, turned psycho.

I'd been sent to Redtail Boarding, because like Dan and the other kids here, Bethan who was plagued by visions and Caspar with his anger problems. Scarlet haired Emma with the evil glimmer in her bright green eyes;

We were all here because we were freaks. And I bet anything Dan doesn't remember how he got here. He always avoided answering me. I still don't understand how I forgot. They must have given me something.

"I came here because I watched someone throw themselves off the top floor of my high school." I admitted quietly, closing my eyes with a shaky sigh.

There was a pause before Dan let out a breath. "What?" he whispered. "You mean you saw someone-" he drifted off and I nodded. "Yeah, I saw them kill themselves."

"Oh. So, are you here because post traumatic stress then?"

"No." I muttered, opening my eyes lazily. "I'm here because the boy wasn't real."

"Wait, what? He wasn't real?" Dan was staring at me with wide eyes now. "How can he not be real? that's impossible Phil Lester!"

"I don't know!" I hissed back. "He was-" I paused, raking my mind for a word which wasn't 'Dead'.

"He was…he wasn't…alive." I said calmly. Why am I telling him this?! I didn't know for sure that he was dead. But 'Dead' was written all over it him.

"Wasn't alive?" Dan repeated with a snort. "So, you're seeing ghosts, Phil Lester?" he teased, smirking.

I gritted my teeth. "Stop with the 'Phil Lester' Dan!" I sighed. "Just call me Phil? How 'bout that?"

"But I don't like you." he cradled his head in his arms, letting out a groan. "Can't you tell? or are you thick as well as a schizto?" his tone had changed again, from a childish giggle to cold and icy, a spike of venom and I shivered.

Well that hurt. Is that what I am, a schizophrenic? Is he trying to get all of this out of me so he can tell everyone else I'm a freak like them? Dan was still avoiding telling me how he actually got here. But wasn't childhood stories of nearly killing his friend with 'Magical powers' as he had said, a start? I'm sure we'll be friends sure enough. Of course that it is if he's not dragged out screaming obscenities like poor Bethan.

"Then why are you telling me your life story?!" I groaned and pushed my face into a pillow and he chuckled lightly. My patience, already none-existent inflamed pretty quickly. With my mind constantly questioning if I was insane, with seeing dead people and their gruesome suicides and murders. I wondered about the boy in the basement. Was he like Lizzie? Speaking of her, what was with that ghastly dream? and Bethan? I made a mental note to ask Caspar if she had been in touch. A prickle of fear shivered through me and I shook my head sighing. No, I can't think like that.

"Hey, daydreamer?" Dan mumbled sleepily, a yawn cutting off his disgruntled laugh. "Lemme guess, you're seeing Michael Jackson at the foot of your bed, right?"

Ignore him, Phil.

"Well?!" he demanded. "How 'bout my great uncle Richard? can you see him too?"

I snuggled down, pulling the duvet over my head. "I'm not the one that sounds insane right now" I replied, a purposeful edge to my tone and a burning regret for pouring my life out to my mentally unstable, selfish twat of a roommate. "Go to sleep, Dan."

He retorted with a grunt and his mattress squeaked when he tossed and turned trying to get comfy. "Night Phil Lester." he murmured, then giggled quietly.

"Mm." I mumbled back, deciding to leave the light on. Lizzie and Bethan's distorted, manic faces were still faint in my memory.

Dan's breaths, which were always loud enough for me to hear turned slow and steady when five minutes ago they had been fast, almost like gasps. Like he was trying to hold in a sob. Until he started to snore softly, his breath coming out sharply and zigzaggy.

"Dan?" I couldn't help whispering.

No reply. Was he fake sleeping again?

With a sigh, I let my eyes close slowly and warily, hoping that this time I won't be plagued with dreams of twisted and contorted versions of Bethan, the girl who had been kicked out after screaming nonsense about Dan being in danger. I couldn't help wondering where she had gone;

Home? Another boarding house?

Caspar's reaction suggested otherwise. He knew something about a former housemate- Anthony? What had happened to him?

What about Dan and his story? Had he really thrown his friend halfway across the park or was he just trying to scare me? And of course his strange proficiency to burn me- and that book in Waterstones. Was it really with his bare skin? Miss Jackson had acted as if she was used to Dan burning two layers of skin off his own arm. So maybe his little fairy-tale wasn't as bogus as I thought. Who was Dan Howell really?

I thought about what Bethan had said in my nightmare. When it resurfaced in my mind I felt a tremor, and reached blindly for the toy lion I had since I was little.

I felt ridiculous pressing my face into its rough, spiky fur. But it smelt of home and that was a comfort. "I can't control myself." Bethan had told me in the dream. Just like Lizzie. What couldn't they control, and why had the sink burst and ceiling crumble when they started spinning on a spot like a fucked up ballerina. Their arms flying out crazily. It felt like their movements were causing the bathroom to collapse on itself.

I shook my head. No, Phil. Don't think. Just sleep. Blank your mind and sleep for god's sake!

That's what I did. I let my eyes close naturally, and allowed myself to sink into a hopefully dreamless and calming sleep.

"Can I tell you a story?" a familiar sleepy murmur brought me out of the half conscious state I had been pretty content and calm in and I couldn't help smile to myself. I knew he wasn't asleep.

I started to turn in my bed to face him but froze when he hissed a curse and his mattress whined when he shuffled around. "No, don't turn around!" he  
said shakily, hushed. "Just listen."

"Sure." I replied. "Might as well, Dan. 'Cos I'm seeing two ghosts right now by the television!" I said sarcastically. "Oh look, they're waving." I waved back, finding it hard to hard not to smirk at him.

If I am insane, I might as well start acting it.

"I can't tell if you're joking…" he muttered. "Anyway!" he lay back down presumably when his bed once again let out a squeak of protest. "When I was little, my aunt used to tell me stories." he started with a heavy, almost relieved sigh. I wonder what he was doing to make him so insistent that I didn't turn round.

Maybe he was naked. But he didn't seem like the kind of guy who would be self conscious of his body. He pressed himself against me a lot and pretty much boasted about how attractive he was.

Which he wasn't. Nope, definitely not. He doesn't bare any resemblance to Tristan Mcvey.

At all.

Not.

One.

Bit.

"But…these stories weren't your average 'Cinderella' and 'Little red riding hood' tales." Dan continued, his voice sluggish and drowsy with exhaustion. "They were different. Like, they…" he paused. "They were about kids with powers.."

Kids with powers? Was he serious?

"Really?" I felt my palms go sweaty which confused me. How can something so absurd make me nervous and uncomfortable?

"Mm. They were about little kids who could see angel's and make fires.." he paused. "But obviously she was talking shit!" he insisted quickly. I couldn't help being intrigued. Maybe it was sheer tiredness or genuine curiosity, but I wanted Dan to elaborate on this.

"And..?" I whispered. "Were they specific stories?" a memory flashed in my mind of Dan holding the burned skeleton of the remains of the Game of Thrones book he had been reading back in the book shop and I discarded the thought quickly before I could hurt my brain further when trying to think of logical explanations to how exactly he had done that himself.

"I don't know." he breathed. "There was this one about a girl who could see the past and future."

Again, another flash of memory and I saw Bethan's empty eyes as she gripped Caspar's arm. Then screaming about Dan being in trouble. Had she-? No. Phil, this is reality. Not a stupid story. Get a hold of yourself for god's sake!

"I never learned the end of that story though." he sighed. "Mum kicked her out and I never saw my aunt Mel again." he concluded incoherently and I frowned. "So she just never came back?"

"Nope!" he almost shouted, before remembering that it was nearly five in the morning.

Okay, here's my chance. While he's slightly loopy with exhaustion.

"Dan?" I held my breath. "You didn't tell me why you were sent here?"

There was an awkward pause and within that I started to regret asking him. He sighed, breaking the tension. "I thought you knew, Phil Lester? I burnt my parents house down- I think." he added.

"You think?" I repeated. "Wait, don't you remember arriving?"

'Oh, yeah. I remember that well. It's just the stuff before that which is blank." he explained in a hushed whisper. "So I'm guessing they made me forget all that because of the trauma."

I thought about what he had said. There was a point when I couldn't remember how I got here. But it all came back to me when I really tried to retrieve the memory locked away deep within my mind.

Maybe that's what Dan had to do. Jog his memory and he might find some answers.

"Dan, why don't you try-" I was about to suggest him jogging his memory when I was interrupted by three sudden tentative knocks on our door. Dan was first to bolt up followed by a reluctant me.

Dan sent me a look. Wary and questioning. "Who is It?!" he hissed.

"It's Jack!" a familiar voice whispered outside. I recognised him as the tall boy with a quiff, a real joker who hung out with the small dark haired boy. Dean. "Can you- uh..possibly help me with something?" he knocked again. More urgently now. Dan glanced at me before sighing. "What with, Jack?! It's quarter past five in the morning!" he whisper-shouted.

"Oh, c'mon it's important!" Jack hissed. "Just please help us?!"

"Us?" I mouthed. Dan shrugged. "FINE!" he groaned, tumbling out of bed and gesturing for me to get out too. I scrambled out quickly, following Dan to the door warily.

Dan opened the door tentatively to reveal three kids standing on the dark hallway holding their phone's for torches. The light bouncing from their phones illuminated their faces helped me automatically recognise them for who they were and not just their voices. The boy with the curly hair and Star Wars pyjama's- PJ. He was smiling at me, a slightly manic look in his eyes. "Hey Phil!" he whispered excitedly. His green eyes, also bathed in the blinding light from their phones, went from me to Dan and he frowned. "Whoa, you haven't killed the new kid yet, Howell?" his lips curved into a smirk and Dan rolled his eyes. "Fuck off PJ." he growled with gritted teeth. Next to PJ were Jack and Dean, with Jack being the tall and fair fringed guy in a dressing gown, and Dean, the smaller boy with black hair falling in his eyes. He was also in a dressing gown. Dean had been the boy who had dragged me out of bed with Zoey on that first night at this school.

"Well?" Dan hissed. "What do you want?" he glanced at PJ. "Or did you just come here to see I haven't murdered my roommate?"

PJ folded his arms. "Well, with your track record-" he started to say, his smirk disappearing and his eyes narrowing at Dan.

"PJ, shut the fuck up!" Jack hissed, digging him in the side with his elbow. The strange boy shut his mouth but he didn't take his eyes off Dan. Jack sighed, dragging his hand through his hair. "Uh, okay- Emma's locked in the bathroom."

"Get it right, Jack!" Dean rolled his eyes. "She's locked herself in."

Dan blinked. "And I'd care because…?" I stepped forward, something stabbing me in the gut again. What had Dan said about Emma again? "Wait, she's locked in?" I intervened. "Is she. Okay?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know, but she's crying." he frowned and he said what we were all thinking. Well, at least what Dan and Dean were thinking. I'd only been here for nearly three days. But I had already kind of hooked onto the fact that Emma wasn't one to cry.

"She never cries." Jack whispered, rolling his phone around his palm. "Even when she wasn't aloud to see her mum!"

Dan sighed irritably. "So? she's probably got women's problems or something." He eyed Jack. "Is that why you came? because you think I actually care about her?"

"Told you he wouldn't give a shit." PJ muttered. Then he turned on his heel. "I don't know about you guys but I'm off to see if she's okay.." he hurried down the dark hallway and before I knew what I was doing, I was following him.

Jack and Dean ran after me not turning back, but Dan just walked back into our room. "I'm not getting involved!" he hissed and slammed the door behind him, the Pokémon poster which was still blue tacked to the wood flying up from the force of the impact.

*  
The first thing I noticed when we arrived at the bathroom door, which was indeed locked shut, was that water was leaking fast from the gap at the bottom of it, soaking into the blood red carpet on the hallway. "Great." Jack frowned at the growing puddle seeping from the small gap which separated wood from carpet. "Emma, what's going on in there?!" he hissed. Dean dropped to his hands and knees and patted the wet patch on the carpet. "If Miss Jackson see's this she'll have heart failure." he muttered, standing back up and leaning against the door sighing.

"She's not going to come out.." PJ sighed, his dull green eyes on the deteriorating problem. PJ looked like he'd been up all night, dark circles shadowed his eyes and his face was papery white. He had a frightening resemblance to Lizzie, the sad ghost girl in my nightmare.

"Emma?" I knocked cautiously. "Are you okay?" PJ snorted quietly. "She's flooded the bathroom, does she sound okay?" he gestured with his index finger the exact moment Emma let out a heavy sob from inside the bathroom and I knocked again with a sigh. "Uh, Emma? Do you know that the bathroom's leaking?" Jack eyed the growing wet patch on the hallway carpet and groaned. "Okay. Phil, you go and get some tea towels from the kitchen," he whispered. When I regarded him with a blank look he rolled his eyes. "Under the sink there's a pile of cloths and tea towels." he explained as if I was a five year old struggling with a maths sum. "Failing that, there's spare sheets in the laundry room" Dean added. He was on his hands and knees again having taken off his dressing gown and stuffed it under the gap trying to block the leak. "Jesus Christ, hurry up Phil!"

PJ knocked more aggressively on the door, grimacing. "Emma?! Open the door!" he hissed.

"Phil, you go and get some towels, we'll try and talk to her." Jack ordered. I nodded and ran down the hallway, making my way down the staircase which was thankfully lit up by mini chandeliers. The kitchen was just around the corner down the stairs. I ran in, intent on grabbing towels and running back out. But I froze in the doorway, my eyes on a person-sized shadow with his back turned to me, digging round in the fridge. I caught messy brown hair with blue pyjama's clinging to a slim figure of a boy around my age, muttering gibberish to himself.

"Raspberry ripple, mint chocolate chip..umm..is that salad? Can you have salad at this time? Does that count as breakfast? Mm..I wonder if there's any cereal. There has to be cereal. Rice Crispies will do me absolutely-"

The boy stood on his tiptoes, reaching for the cupboard above the fridge. "Nearly..got..it!" he hissed, throwing all his strength into reaching for the cupboard door and yanking it open. Then he turned to grab a chair to stand on and I saw him properly. He was small with messy bed-hair in his eyes as well as the back of his head. He too froze when we met eyes and he straightened up, still not taking his eyes off of me.

Then, without a word, only pressing his finger to his lips to say, "Shhh!" he climbed onto the chair and grabbed a box of Cheerio's from the cupboard before jumping back down with the box pressed protectively to his chest as if it was a neborn child.

"Uh…new kid right?" He smiled awkwardly, offering his hand for me to shake. "Names Troye." he whispered. Even with his voice low there was no mistaking the strong australian accent. I returned the friendly smile and properly stepped into the kitchen.

"I'm always in my room." he said as I grabbed and shook his hand. "I…prefer it that way." he smiled, but I swear his smile was strained.

"Hi, I'm..uh…Phil." I introduced myself whilst making my way across the kitchen to the cupboards underneath the sink. I knelt down and opened the wooden doors, scooping up a few towels into my arms and stood up, kicking them shut. "So, why are you here then?" I jumped and cursed myself for nearly flailing out of my skin. Troye was stood behind me, pouring Cheerio's into his mouth and chewing loudly. He had a baby face like Dan and dare I think it- Tristan Mcvey, the guy I maybe-might have a crush on.

Or had. Like he'd ever like a freak like me. The guy who had to be sedated because he was screaming about a guy who didn't even exist. Just my imagination.

"I…um…I…ah-" Again with the stuttering, Phil. Stop it.

Deep breath and take it slowly. Troye arched a brow and folded his arms, licking crumbs off his lips. "You a freak then, Phil?"

"No." I found my voice. Then I found myself asking, "Why?"

Troye cocked his head to one side and inched closer to me. A bit too close for comfort. Then another step so we were practically nose- to nose. When he spoke I got a whiff of Dorito's in my face and a rush of Deja Vu reminded me of my selfish, irritating, antagonising and kind of maybe possibly cute roommate. What, Dan?! I shook that off quickly before that thought could resurface.

"You're like Caspar?" The corners of Troye's lips curved and he smirked at me. "Whoa, you are like him!" I frowned confused. "What?! Um…I uh…I'm sorry?"

"Caspar!" He said excitedly. I wondered if he was going to grab my shoulders and shake them.

"Sorry?" I forced a shaky laugh and took a step backwards away from him. "I have no idea what you're on about!" I hissed, my heart already starting to hammer.

"Caspar Lee?" he grinned, that same crazy gleam which had been in PJ's eyes which was in his too. "You know, a seer of the dead!" he patted me excitedly and I backed away from him again, unable to speak. "I…?" I remembered the towels in my arms and made my way quickly out of the kitchen.

"Hey, wait!" to my dismay, Troye followed me and I didn't have to strain my brain to wonder what kind of 'freak' he was. It was kind of obvious. "Don't be scared, Caspar freaked out too when I told him, but I can't help it!"

"Just..um…J- Just leave a- alone." I said calmly. "You're crazy!"

He stopped following me then and I risked a glance behind me. The weird Australian boy was standing at the bottom of the staircase, staring at me. His excited grin had been replaced by a frown of disappointment- and a hint of loneliness. "Wanna know why you never see me?!" he hissed with an edge to his tone.

I really need to get back to Jack and the others. I didn't answer him but my feet felt as if they were super-glued to the stairs.

"They won't believe me!" Troye's hiss was almost a sob. "I- I can't help what I say- it's like a messed up kind of Tourette's?" he let out a feeble laugh but swiped at his eyes and I felt a stab of sympathy for the boy. Maybe I shouldn't be quick to judge him and run away. I do want to know more about my past and..dare I say it, my strange abilities. Which Caspar has too?

How can Caspar be like me?

I wanted to talk to Troye. Ask him so many questions, because he's finally my answer to finding out what the fuck Redtail Boarding is.

But before I could open my mouth, he turned and walked back into the kitchen. Presumably to continue rifling through the fridge. "T-Troye!" I managed to hiss, but he ignored me and slammed the door behind him.

—


End file.
